Cleansing the Sins of the Past
by TheEndless7
Summary: Ten years after the battle at the Ministry Harry Potter returns to England to take up the post of Headmaster of Hogwarts. But across the ocean an old threat emerges as Gellert Grindelwald rises once again for the Greater Good of the Magical World. Sequel to Limpieza De Sangre.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

Author's note: This is a sequel to my story _Limpieza De Sangre_ it will likely not make any sense if you have not read that first.

Cleansing the Sins of the Past

Chapter 1

"Bill! We are going to be late!" Fleur Weasley yelled to her husband, Bill.

"We're just taking the kids down to the beach, Love," Bill responded, peering up from the paper. "It's not like we have an appointment or anything."

"We are meeting my parents! And Dominique is getting antsy!" Fleur said.

"But not Victoire?" Bill asked. "And your parents will wait."

"She is quite enraptured with the gossip columns at the moment. But I would not expect that to last long," Fleur said as her husband pulled on his swimming trunks. She shifted her weight, jutting her hip to the side to express her annoyance at how slow he was being.

"Gossip columns," Bill spat in annoyance.

"They are harmless," Fleur responded.

"World is falling apart around us and they're still publishing that drivel," Bill said.

"I hardly think that one old man escaping from prison constitutes the world falling apart," Fleur said. "By all accounts he was practically on his death bed as is. And she is not old enough to understand that, anyway."

"I just have a bad feeling about it," Bill said. He paused to stare out the window of the hotel they were staying in. Despite it still being the early morning hours, the beach was already crowded beneath them. He turned his gaze to the warm September sun as it rose overhead.

"I am sure they will catch him quickly. If he is even still alive," Fleur responded. The news that the infirm Gellert Grindelwald had somehow managed to escape his citadel prison had spread through the world in moments. Aurors from every country had been dispatched to look for him. But despite the massive manhunt, there had been no signs of him.

Everyone seemed to agree that was incredibly unusual. Wild theories arouse from the tiniest of rumors. But so far in the weeks after, nothing substantiated from any of the rumors. Most simply assumed the effort from breaking out and throwing the prison tower into that poor muggle town was too much for him and he'd died shortly after.

That seemed far too easy for others. Too convenient. But still, no sign of the man came about. And the longer he stayed hidden, the more complacent everyone grew.

"If they were going to find him," Bill said. "They would have found him already."

"You sound very worried about this," Fleur frowned. She stepped toward her husband, standing close enough so that he could hold her, as he liked to do when he was concerned. Bill obliged, his arms sliding around her.

"I am," Bill said.

"Why?" Fleur asked. "He is just an old man."

"A few years before I came back to England to help the Order I was working for Gringotts in Berlin. They'd discovered an underground bunker leftover from the war. They thought, rather correctly, that it had been one of his. I was one of twenty-five Curse Breakers they sent in," Bill paused and pressed his face into his wife's hair.

"And?" Fleur asked.

"Three came out," Bill said. "There were curses in there I still have a hard time thinking about. Magic that I'm not sure how it could even exist. But there it was."

"You have never told me about this," Fleur said.

"I don't like to think about it," Bill responded.

"What was it like?" Fleur asked.

"I'm not sure I can even find the words," Bill frowned. "It was horrible. Everything triggered something. Even breathing in rooms triggered something. Spells that I think the only way not to trigger was to be Gellert Grindelwald."

"Like what?" Fleur asked.

"In the atrium if you took a breath your lungs exploded," Bill said.

"What? How?" Fleur asked.

"I have no idea," Bill said. "Best we could figure was that your own magic reacted to something he put into the air and triggered some type of delayed magical explosion. Their chests, Fleur, literally popped."

"That is disgusting," Fleur frowned.

"It was," Bill said. "But it was easy. A bubblehead charm outside the room and you could get through it. Except that then the doors attacked and tried to break the charm. And the only person to make it into the next room just melted into a puddle."

"What can even do that?" Fleur said.

"No idea. And we didn't stick around to find out. One hour, Fleur, of our most tentative and cautious prodding and we lost twenty-two people. Everything in there was designed to be completely lethal and triggered at the merest of change. We left. The goblins were furious but none of them were willing to venture into that hell," Bill said.

"What did the goblins do?" Fleur asked.

"Sealed the entrance and hid away any knowledge of it so that no one else would ever venture into it. We never found out what he'd been hiding there," Bill said.

"Good," Fleur responded.

"It was the best course of action they could take," Bill said.

"So that is what has you so worked up and distant. You are worried about what he could do if he were back?" Fleur said.

"To an extent. You could feel how little he cared about human life while there. And how perverted the magic was. Everything felt oppressive and wrong. Tainted almost. I can't describe it right. But every part of me just screamed 'flee' when I was there. It was absolutely all I could think of. And if that man is back, we are all in danger," Bill said.

"We have Harry Potter," Fleur said. "He beat You-Know-Who. And everyone says that You-Know-Who was stronger than Grindelwald."

"Maybe," Bill said. "I can't imagine magic much stronger than what I felt in that bunker. And do we really have Harry?"

"Of course we do," Fleur said. "Why would we not?"

"You've heard the same rumors I've heard I'm sure," Bill said. "About that night."

"Everyone has. But they don't make sense. Why would he have tried to escape with her? He ended up killing her," Fleur said.

"Then why did he run?" Bill asked.

"Days later? Because he wanted to see the world? Because he had just vanquished the greatest Dark Witch of all time and wanted to take a break from it all? Because your government spent months demonizing him and then claimed that was all part of the plan?" Fleur offered.

"Perhaps," Bill said.

"If he was running from the British Ministry of Magic they certainly did not make much of an effort to find him," Fleur said. "Nor did they ever mention to the French ministry that they were even looking for him. Or concerned about him. In fact, they told father quite the contrary."

"When?" Bill asked.

"After that debacle in Vancouver. Father asked if they thought Harry Potter was dangerous or responsible. And Fudge insisted that Harry was nothing of the sort. And that when the truth of that night came out it would be most likely that Harry arrived in the nick of time to save everyone. And not that he was responsible at all," Fleur said.

"But the truth never came out," Bill said. Fleur frowned.

"I suppose that is true," she said. "But do you really believe all that nonsense? Harry seemed like quite a nice young man during the tournament. He saved Gabrielle, remember? When he did not have to."

"I do," Bill said. "But I don't really think that we can judge him on what happened over a decade ago."

"Probably not," Fleur said. "But if your opinion is purely based on what Ronald says at family dinners. Well, has he even spoken to him in the last decade?"

"He claims he has," Bill said.

"But has he?" Fleur commented.

"I don't know," Bill said. "But what kind of person just doesn't talk to their best friend for a decade?"

"I do not know," Fleur said.

"And even you said you thought it was obvious that Ron and Hermione were going to be a couple. And that just never happened," Bill said.

"Sometimes I'm wrong. If I am honest I thought they would settle for each other. But while it seems like your brother assumed that was going to happen, it just never did. So, I think Hermione must have wanted something different," Fleur said. "it's not uncommon."

"So the love guru was wrong about them?" Bill teased.

"Something obviously happened," Fleur shrugged. "Something that we will never know. But I think that assuming it is nefarious is a little silly."

"And you're probably right, love," Bill said. "But something about it. And then him showing up out of the blue and taking over Hogwarts. And then Grindelwald coming back. It just all seems so wrong to me."

"I wish I could say your little hunches were not usually right," Fleur frowned. "But I do honestly think there is nothing there for this one. Unless you are implying Harry Potter helped bring back Grindelwald."

"Of course not. I can't see him ever doing that," Bill said.

"I cannot either," Fleur said. "So for now we just hope for the best."

"That works for me," Bill said. "Anyway. Should we get the girls down to the beach?"

"They have not bothered us for ten minutes. So, they are probably due to come bursting in and demand we do something," Fleur said.

"Mmm so not enough time to make a third one," Bill said, peering down at his wife.

"No," Fleur said. "I told you not for another year or two."

"I know," Bill said. "Let's go get them down to the beach so I can see you in your bathing suit some more."

"Good idea," Fleur said.

"Victoire, Dominique, are you ready to go to the beach?" Bill yelled cheerily as he stepped into the adjoining room. His daughters squealed and clung to him as he spoke. He wrangled them expertly, picking up Dominique and carrying her while holding onto Victoire's hand. Fleur smiled at the scene before picking up her bag of daily essentials and shrugging it over her shoulder. She followed them out of the room joining happily into the conversation as it required.

They met her parents at the beach. They'd already staked out a small portion of it and were happily greeting their grandchildren as they pranced around the beach.

"Where is Gabrielle?" Fleur asked, speaking French for the first time that day. "I thought she was coming with today."

"Zoe scheduled her an audition. She is hoping to join us tomorrow," Fleur's mother, Apolline Delacour said.

"That is amazing!" Fleur said. "Tell her I am very proud of her if she cannot make it to join us."

"I will," Apolline said. "But I am sure she will be very excited to talk to us about it come dinner on Sunday."

"Where is the audition?" Fleur asked.

"London," her mother responded.

"Oh so she will be close to Bill and I if she gets it," Fleur said.

"Gets what?" Bill asked, stepping up to his wife.

"Gabrielle has an audition in London today," Fleur said.

"That's amazing!" Bill exclaimed.

"Yes it is," Fleur's father said. "I am sure she will knock it out of the park."

"For sure," Bill said.

"Did she pick London?" Fleur asked.

"No, she has a few other auditions lined up too. But she did seem very interested in it after she discovered that Harry Potter had returned to England," Apolline Delacour said.

"Of course," Fleur laughed. "She is never going to come to terms with that one, is she?"

"I think she has," Apolline said. "It's not like she's even seen him since then. But the boy certainly doesn't do himself any favors by staying unmarried."

"Doesn't do Gabrielle any favors you mean," Fleur teased.

"I'm sure there are many young girls smitten with the myth that is Harry Potter," Apolline Delacour countered, chuckling under her breath.

"And I am sure you are correct," Fleur said. "That does not mean it is not fairly comical at this point."

"Anyway, let us get out of the sun. We would not want to turn into lobsters now would we?" Apolline said, leading Fleur over toward the chairs they'd set up underneath some umbrellas. Fleur and her mother chatted and watched the girls for most of the day.

Later in the evening they went to a small café near the waterfront and Bill and Fleur spent the majority of the meal making sure the kids were well behaved. The conversation, at least between Bill and her Father shifted to Grindelwald.

Fleur frowned and did her best to keep Victoire and Dominique from listening too closely to the conversations. Fleur and Apolline kept them entertained through dinner but were losing control of the situation by dessert.

Fleur was packing up her things when something caught her attention. Something glittered in the street and a few men were going to investigate it. She heard a loud cracking sound from a few feet to her right. When she turned to look over in that direction, nothing was there. A few others were looking over as well.

"Something bothering you, love?" Bill asked. Fleur turned her attention back to the table.

"No," she said. "Just thought I heard something."

"There's some commotion going on in the street," her father said.

"I wonder what that's about?" Bill asked.

"No idea," Fleur said as she peered around.

"Something is going on down there," her father said.

"I'll go take a look," Bill sighed and stood.

"No," Fleur said, her eyes resting on the glinting silver object in the street that was drawing the men toward it.

"I'll be fine," Bill said. "Just going to make sure no one does anything stupid."

"No," Fleur said again as bill stepped passed her. She reached for him as he did.

But, in that moment, one of the men reached for the small silver object in the road. And as soon as he touched it a blast of energy shot everywhere around them and everything seemed to freeze.

A million thoughts flashed through Fleur's mind. Thoughts of everything. Thoughts of herself. From the joy of discovering she was a witch, to the pride she felt all those years ago to represent Beauxbatons in the Triwizard Tournament, to how giddy she felt on the morning of her wedding.

There were shared memories, too. Memories of finding out Victoire was growing inside of her. And then holding her daughter in her arms for the first time. And then the same feelings when Dominique was born as well.

And then images of her family. Her mother and father looking so happy for her and Bill on their wedding day. Her mother beaming at baby Victoire. Her father bouncing baby Domonique on his knee.

And then Gabrielle. Her sweet, adorable, naive little Gabrielle. Her protuberant eyes always looking shocked at every little detail going on around her. At least, Fleur thought, at least little Gabrielle was in London today. At least she wasn't here with the rest of her family.

After the shockwave passed there was only blinding white light and a burning pain. But the pain lasted less than the blink of an eye. And after that, everything was merely dust.

* * *

Harry Potter walked through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His first month as Head had been hectic. But he'd fully expected that. After five years of running his own school in Nagasaki nothing really surprised him. The only real difference was the scale of it. It surprised him that he'd forgotten just how massive Hogwarts was by comparison.

Of course, with that as well, was the added staff. Back in Japan he was more or less always available for everyone, staff and student alike. But there were significantly fewer people to be available for. Here everything was less personal, he received reports from the heads of house and acted accordingly. Everything at Hogwarts seemed to be, at least when it was working well, rather automated. He just needed to observe and act when necessary.

But, unlike in Japan, here he had a government asking for reports and updates and lesson plans and everything in between. Hermione Granger had always been annoying. And, if Harry was being honest, that was something he liked about her. No one could say she wasn't taking her new position as the Head of the Department of Magical Education seriously. They seemed to have settled into weekly reports at this juncture. And Harry was hoping that lessened in the coming months. Mostly because he got the feeling Avery was growing annoyed with writing them for him.

Still, there were worse things than having to answer questions from the government about the day-to-day of the school. And once he'd figured out exactly what they were looking for it was an easy task to delegate to either Alexander or Fumiko Avery.

The Death Eater turned traveling companion and his new young wife were quite the asset when it came to dealing with situations Harry wasn't totally confident in. He still had the hardest time thinking of Avery by his first name, though, despite trying to force his inner thoughts to do so.

But Avery had a solid head for numbers and a was a right terror when it came to getting the budget balanced. He'd done wonders with the small amount of coin they'd used to start the school in Nagasaki. And his skills had translated easily to the larger numbers of the bigger school.

He'd joked that he should have been born a goblin and Harry had teased him that muggles just called them accountants. He'd idly wondered if Lord Voldemort just had a thing for acquiring accountants, but when he'd tried to joke about that with Avery, the man had just stared at him with a confused expression which only served to remind Harry that the older man likely never knew of Martin Price.

Alexander Avery first Fumiko in Osaka at a local shrine while stocking up on magical supplies. They'd spent the better part of a year flirting and dodging around their feelings for each other. But something involving Christmas Cake seemed to convince both of them to get married. Harry hadn't really asked for the intimate details. He liked Fumiko and he could tell that they made each other happy.

Avery's new wife had a way of reading people and reading a room. She was often very accurate with her guesses on people's motivations and next steps. She tended to be shy around groups and seemed a bit reclusive. But Harry had quickly learned to ask for her advice whenever someone's actions were confusing to him.

He probably relied more on them than a Headmaster should have. But he also felt that making sure everyone around him was involved was crucial to keeping morale up for the entire school. There was also probably a joke in there that it took three people to replace one Dumbledore, but he didn't let that linger too long in his mind.

"Evening Harry," Neville Longbottom, his new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, said as they crossed paths in the halls.

"Evening Neville," Harry responded. "Are you joining us tonight?"

"Are you discussing work or are you discussing extra-curricular activities?" Neville asked.

"Extra-curriculars," Harry said.

"I'll be there," Neville said. "I'll just go change and head over."

"Take your time," Harry said. "I'm going to finish my rounds first. It'll give me a few minutes of silence to think."

"Until you walk in on two students being inappropriate in a broom closet," Neville said.

"I'd have to walk into the broom closet to have that happen. Rather than just hear it and decided to head elsewhere," Harry countered.

"Don't let the parents hear that philosophy," Neville said with a chuckle as they went their separate ways in the hall. Harry continued his patrolling through the school. He took longer than probably necessary. But he was using the time more to think than he was actually looking for students running amok.

The stories from France were disturbing and weighing on Harry's mind. And Harry wasn't precisely sure how he wanted to act as of yet. No, that was false. He knew exactly how he wanted to act. But now the question was if he should. It was problematic. Normally he just went and did something, consequences be damned. But now he had to stop and think if it was something he should do. And the more he thought about every possible course of action, the more he thought every one of them was wrong.

All-in-all it was rather annoying.

Eventually, he gave up. His thoughts were organized enough that he knew there was nothing more to gain from stewing on them. He started the journey back to his office. The gargoyle that guarded the entrance shifted aside as he approached. He took the spiral stairs two at a time and entered his office.

Fumiko and Avery were there, standing over a large table they'd set up in the middle of the room. Avery was tweaking things on the table to correspond with a map in his hand. Neville was standing in the corner, pouring himself a drink.

"Grab me one too," Harry said as he stepped into the office. Neville nodded.

"Sushi on your desk, fresh from Tokyo," Fumiko said.

"Since when did my desk become the buffet table?" Harry asked.

"Since about forty seconds ago when Alex returned with the Sushi," Fumiko said as Harry moved toward his desk. He conjured a plate and started picking an assortment from it. Fumiko joined him after a moment and started making two plates.

"Help yourself Neville," Harry said as the defense professor put a glass of whiskey down next to him.

"I'm good. I gorged myself at dinner," Neville said, sipping his own drink.

"Suit yourself," Harry responded. He spent a couple of moments eating and letting Fumiko and Avery start on their food as well.

"How's the first month?" Neville asked as Fumiko and Alex chatted in Japanese.

"So far so good," Harry said. "It's gone by in a flash. Yourself?"

"Fine. Pomona has been a great help, I think you were right though," Neville said.

"Rather teach Herbology?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Neville said.

"Next year it's yours then," Harry said.

"She's retiring for sure?" Neville asked.

"Both her and McGonagall are, yes," Harry said. "Or at least they've told me to assume they are."

"That's going to feel weird," Neville said.

"Beginning of a new era," Harry said. "Anyway, are we ready?"

"Eating," Avery said, popping a piece of fish into his mouth.

"So yes," Harry said. "Show me what we have."

"Fine," Avery said. He waved his wand over the table in the center of the room. Two separate models appeared on it. One looked like a vibrant seaside town. The other more closely resembled a crater.

"Before and after?" Harry said.

"As best as I could reconstruct," Fumiko answered.

"The Muggles seem to think it was a bomb. Or multiple bombs," Neville said. "One of those city-levelers. Some group in the Middle-East is claiming responsibility in the Muggle press."

"I've heard those reports," Harry said.

"The muggles don't have a bomb that can do that and not leave some residual effect," Avery said.

"How do we know it wasn't one, though?" Fumiko said. "I mean we were just in Nagasaki. We all know what their weaponry can do to unsuspecting magical communities."

"We don't," Avery said. "We're operating mostly on a hunch."

"And that hunch is?" Fumiko asked.

"That it was Gellert Grindelwald," Neville answered. Harry peered at him for a moment. He hadn't shared his opinion on the matter with Neville yet. But the man was a trained Auror. Even if Harry had accidentally cost him his job years ago.

He had to remind himself that his memories of Neville struggling with magic in Dumbledore's Army in his fifth year were not current. The man before him had worked rather hard after Harry left and had greatly improved himself. And, like Harry, he was certainly able to put two and two together.

"Why though?" Fumiko asked.

"Don't know," Harry said. "But he breaks out from prison. Disappears for nearly two months after leveling an entire village with his stone pillar trick, and then another town gets blown up? I mean, it could be entirely a coincidence. Maybe those Saudis in the Muggle news actually did it," Harry said.

"They aren't Saudi," Neville responded.

"Well, maybe whoever is claiming they did it actually did it then," Harry said. "But it seems too clean for strictly Muggle weaponry. Did you manage to get the reports from the French Ministry?"

"No," Avery said. "They're locked down pretty tightly. No one is talking about it. They're trying to quarantine the area but too many relief volunteers are showing up. They've got the reports and official documentation heavily guarded in Paris, though."

"Have they hexed the area?" Harry asked.

"Not that we can tell. There's too much Muggle presence to keep people out effectively. Their Muggle military has quarantined it and they seem content with just aiding in those efforts in secret," Avery said.

"So, theoretically, we can apparate straight in," Harry said.

"You can, probably yes," Avery said. "I should be able to. Past that, I don't know."

"What if it's like how Nagaski was before you fixed it?" Fumiko asked.

"Then I'll have an issue getting out," Harry said. "But even if I'm caught I doubt they kill me on sight. They'll take me somewhere and more than likely I can finagle my way out of it then."

"That is a horrible plan," Fumiko said.

"I agree," Neville confirmed.

"It really is," Avery added.

"Shelf that for now then. What else do we know?" Harry asked.

"Not much," Avery admitted. "While the Muggles are calling it a bomb there are clear signs that it was magical."

"Like?" Harry asked.

"It's too perfectly symmetrical to be a muggle bomb. It had a clear area and wiped everything away inside of it," Avery said.

"But no spell can do damage of that magnitude," Neville said as he gestured to the magical recreations before him.

"No spell that we know of," Avery said.

"I don't know," Harry said as he examined it.

"Do you think you could do that?" Fumiko asked.

"Right now? No. But in theory it just requires a great deal of power channeled toward destruction. And probably some type of catalyst to trigger it. It's not inherently impossible. It's just unlikely and untried," Harry said. "If multiple people were involved it might be easier."

"So multiple suspects?" Neville asked.

"No, I have a hunch our first reaction is correct," Harry said.

"Then how?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "But we should assume anything is possible unless it's proven otherwise."

"Why not take credit?" Fumiko asked.

"I don't think he wants to," Harry said. "I think he'll emerge and try to use it somehow. Pin it on the Muggles to see how the magical communities react. Try to pass them off as animals that must be controlled. Silence all the voices that say the Muggles had nothing to do with it."

"That would never work," Fumiko said.

"It might if he won," Harry said.

"Well maybe," Fumiko said as Harry moved back to his desk to take a second helping of sushi.

"Either way we aren't going to come up with something satisfactory by sitting here and talking about it," Harry said.

"You want to go," Avery said.

"Of course," Harry said.

"When?" Fumiko asked.

"Tonight probably. Maybe tomorrow morning," Harry said. "Although I think I'd prefer to be there at a time with a few guards as possible."

"So soon?" Fumiko asked.

"It's the weekend. Not much of a reason to hesitate," Harry said.

"Well let's go then," Avery said.

"Excuse me," Fumiko said. "But I would really prefer if both of you didn't venture to an area that was just blown to hell with no idea of how it happened. Can my husband sit this one out?"

"Oh. I'm sure it's perfectly safe," Avery said, his voice catching as he spoke.

"Fine," Harry said. Avery glared at him.

"You shouldn't go alone," Neville said. "I'll join you."

"Well that's settled," Harry said.

"I'll go throw some things together we should be able to leave in twenty," Neville said. He started to walk toward the door of the office. But as soon as he did it burst open.

Ron Weasley burst in through the door. Nearly knocking Neville back. Neville sidestepped around Ron with a surprising grace and stood against the wall, his gaze shifting between Harry and Ron. Harry turned his attention to the new arrival.

Ten years hadn't been very kind to Ron. His insatiable appetite was finally catching up to his body. He wasn't nearly as big as Vernon or Dudley, but he certainly should have been paying better attention to what he ate. Judging from his appearance, Harry suspected he rather liked to drink. And judging from the smell on Ron's breath he'd been indulging before he decided to visit.

"What are you doing?" Ron slurred as he entered the room.

"Hello Ron," Harry said. He waved his hand and the recreations of the town in the middle of his office vanished.

"What are you doing here?" Ron said again.

"Running a school," Harry said with as much cheer as he could muster.

"I know that," Ron said. "Why are you still here?"

"As opposed to where?" Harry asked. He stepped toward the bar and refilled his drink and poured one for Ron. His friend took it without question when offered.

"You know where," Ron said.

"No. I don't," Harry responded.

"France!" Ron yelled. "You should be catching the man who blew up my family!"

"I see," Harry said. He sipped his drink and stared at Ron.

"That's what you do, isn't it? Show up and solve people's problems. Fix things. That's what you abandoned us for," Ron spat. "To be the hero!"

"I always felt it was less premeditated than that," Avery said.

"It is," Harry said. "And it leaves out the amount of problems I cause simply by showing up."

"Why are you doing nothing!" Ron said. "They killed my family. You didn't even go to the funeral!"

"I sent flowers," Harry said.

"No. You have terrible taste," Fumiko said. "I sent the flowers."

"Fumiko sent flowers," Harry amended. "And you don't want me showing up at events like that. It just becomes all about Harry Potter."

"Why aren't you helping us," Ron said. "Mom can barely get out of bed. Dad is a wreck. The twins ran off to help. Charlie isn't even around. Ginny is busy with quidditch."

"And I'm running Hogwarts," Harry said. "Am I supposed to drop everything because some terrorist blew up a town that Bill and Fleur happened to be in?"

"If you don't, who will?" Ron asked.

"The government officials who are paid to do so, one would assume," Avery said.

"Why won't you help!" Ron yelled. He had tears forming in his eyes and Harry actually felt bad for him. He knew he shouldn't be this much of a prick to Ron. But the man was acting as if Harry owed it to him. And as if he'd never faced a hardship in his life before.

In Harry's mind, only the twins really had the right idea. But hey knew they weren't interested in finding anything. Instead they just wanted to help. In addition to running one of the biggest joke shop chains in the country, they also ran one of the biggest charities. But that wasn't relevant. What mattered was that they had gone and done something. Whereas Ron's first reaction had been to find out why someone wasn't doing it for him.

It was probably why their relationship had worked in Hogwarts. When he was younger, Harry liked to feel like he was important, like he was actually helping, and like people appreciated his efforts. Those were all things that the Dursley's had denied him. Being able to actually help other people had given him fulfillment.

Now, though, he was less inclined to act on those instincts. He didn't need to search for such fulfillment from others. He'd found plenty of ways to get it himself.

"Why should I?" he asked.

"It's what you do!" Ron said, flailing his arms in the air. "You save people. You help people. You protect people."

"So, I should do that again now?" Harry asked.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed.

"And if I don't want to?" Harry asked.

"What?" Ron blinked at him. A strangely confused look crossing over his face.

"What if I don't want to," Harry said again.

"Oh, well, I guess I never thought about that," Ron said. "You never really seemed to not want to before. And you're, well, you're Harry Potter."

"I am," Harry said. "And you're half in the bag."

"Yes," Ron agreed. "So when are you going."

"Fifteen, twenty minutes probably," Harry said.

"Then why were you being such a cock?" Ron asked.

"Because he is a cock," Avery said.

"Alexander!" Fumiko scoffed.

"What! He is! He's just our cock," Avery said.

"I am not even going to go into what's wrong with that sentence," Fumiko seethed.

"Anyway, I'll go gather some things," Neville said and made for the door once more. As soon as he stepped toward it Hermione Granger burst in.

"Harry!" she said, stepping toward him and hugging him.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said, returning the hug with one arm while raising an eyebrow at Avery. Neville laughed to himself but did step through the doorway.

"Hermione?" Ron said quietly. Hermione turned and slipped from Harry, her brows raised. Her expression darkened when she saw Ron.

"Oh, hi Ron," Hermione said.

"Would you like some sushi, Ms. Granger?" Fumiko asked.

"Fresh?" Hermione immediately turned her attention away from Ron.

"Of course," Fumiko said. "I'll make you a plate."

"Thank you," Hermione said. A few moments later Fumiko handed her an assortment.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked.

"Harry's thirty-day review," Hermione said.

"I totally forgot about that," Harry said.

"Naturally you did," Hermione said.

"What if tonight is a bad night?" Harry asked.

"What's wrong with tonight?" Hermione glared at him as she started on the food.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"That's what I thought," Hermione said.

"Are you going to spend the night?" Harry asked. He noticed Fumiko's eyes narrow as she looked at Hermione, and then over at Avery questioningly. Avery shrugged. Ron's skin suddenly matched his hair as he tried to speak. But, no words came out.

"What?" Hermione looked startled.

"Well it's late. Didn't know if you'd want to hang out after," Harry said. Hermione paused for a moment. She raised her brows at him.

"Is that even on the table?" she asked.

"Are you two?" Ron asked.

"Or if I need to have a room prepared," Harry said.

"Of course," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, you two?" Ron asked again.

"That, Ron, is none of your business," Hermione said. "What are you doing here?"

"He came to tell me I should go to France to investigate the explosion," Harry said.

"And you were going to leave too," Ron said.

"What?" Hermione said.

"Well, in like a half hour. Neville was gathering some supplies," Harry said.

"What the fuck, Harry?" Hermione shrieked.

"I'm not sure. I don't usually bring supplies," Harry said. "I just apparate to whatever I need if I need something. I just didn't want him to feel unimportant."

"No. Not that!" Hermione yelled.

"Well what then?" Harry asked.

"Are you serious?" Hermione yelled.

"Yes?" Harry said.

"You can't go rushing off to investigate some explosion! You're the head of Hogwarts! Your duty is to the students!" Hermione exclaimed.

"And making sure they don't explode seems like a good duty," Harry said.

"You can't expect me to buy that!" Hermione continued. "Like you're actually worried about the school exploding? You just want to investigate because you're curious!"

"Well yeah," Harry said. "But the town was magically protected. And it's gone. It does stand to reason that we might be able to learn something to better our defenses by seeing just what happened."

"Oh yes. I'm sure. I'm sure you would be able to discern something key to improving the defenses of the school. And I'm sure it's something that only you would be able to find. And not the hundreds of officials scouring the place trying to figure out what happened," Hermione said.

"Exactly!" Harry said.

"She was being sarcastic," Avery said.

"Oh," Harry said.

"You can't go!" Hermione yelled. "It is not your job to go and investigate whatever strange magical anomaly you decide to. At least not during the school year! It is your job to stay here and make sure that the castle is safe and looked after."

"That's what Avery is for," Harry said. "Having both of us here is excessive."

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "No. You can't tell me you repeatedly leave the castle to go do whatever you want!"

"This will be the first time," Harry said. "Unless you count trips for food."

"You are not going!" Hermione yelled. "I can't have Fudge coming into my office and questioning me why the Headmaster is popping around in France or doing whatever he damn well pleases!"

"Providing support to a nation in crisis? I feel like Professor Dumbledore would be disappointed if I were to stay here and do nothing. The blast was less than a hundred miles from Beauxbatons. I'm sure Madame Maxime would appreciate another pair of eyes in the area just to see if there's anything that could be done in the future," Harry said.

"The timing of it is problematic," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that resided behind his dead said softly.

"Miss Granger is right," Armando Dippet said. "Mister Potter should stay at Hogwarts."

"Please I'll be back before classes resume on Monday," Harry said. "There's little reason for me not to go."

"What if something happens to you?" Hermione said.

"What?" Harry asked, as if the question hadn't occurred to him.

"You want to go to a town where some type of unidentified explosion killed more people than they've been able to count yet. And given that there is literally nothing left, more people than they will likely be able to count. What if it happens again but this time you vanish with all the rest?" Hermione asked.

"A random explosion that powerful happening twice in the same spot? Please the odds of that are tiny," Harry said.

"What if it does? What then?" Hermione asked.

"Then Avery is annoyed at having to do more work for the next year and you're stuck with Percy Weasley as Headmaster after that," Harry said.

"That isn't funny," Hermione said.

"No. It isn't," Harry said. "But it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to happen to me."

"You can't know that," Hermione said.

"Sure I can," Harry said. "I'm me."

"I know you have a very high opinion of yourself, Harry, but that isn't the point. You can't possibly know. You can't say you think you could have prevented it. You can't say you know what it was."

"I'm pretty positive I could have prevented it had I been there when it happened. And I'm pretty positive I know what it was," Harry said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said.

"There's only two things capable of doing what it did. The first is the Muggles nuclear bomb. The description of the attack seems similar enough. But we have two things that discredit that theory," Harry said.

"Good Lord that thing they used in Japan?" Dippet said.

"And just what rules that out?" Hermione asked.

"The muggles haven't said anything about radiation excluding talking about the distinct lack of it. And we know that the French ministry has been casting spells in the area. Something that should be more difficult given past experiences," Harry said.

"You opened a school in Nagasaki, where people supposedly couldn't do magic," Hermione said.

"Where you couldn't do magic five years ago," Harry countered. "But again. I'm me. I have some advantages."

"Fine," Hermione said. "If that wasn't it then what was it? Surely it could just be some other muggle bomb."

"There isn't another single muggle bomb that could destroy that much magic. A barrage, maybe. But not one explosion," Harry said.

"So what was it?" Hermione asked again.

"A very powerful spell. A spell that probably took about a month of preparation, I'd guess. A good month of pouring power into it before deciding it had exactly what it needed. It would take a powerful wizard to do so and not lose control. The magic would undoubtedly be difficult to restrain."

"You think it was Grindelwald," Hermione said.

"I'm positive it was Grindelwald," Harry said. "Exactly how he did it? I don't know. Exactly why he did it? I don't know. But short of Me, Emily, or perhaps Avery, I don't know of anyone else powerful enough to do magic like that."

"You could do magic like that?" Ron asked.

"In theory," Harry said. "Never tried."

"You don't know everyone that's out there," Hermione said.

"I don't. But again, three options that I think could do it for sure. I didn't do it. You'll have to trust me on that. Avery didn't do it because he's not that stupid. And Emily is rather obviously not around. And Grindelwald broke out of prison and has been missing since. Seems like the logical choice," Harry said.

"So. you're going to rush there to, what, fight Grindelwald?" Hermione scoffed at the notion.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Why would he even be there?" Hermione said.

"Because he wants to see how we react. And he doesn't strike me as the type to rely on reports from others. I suspect he'll be well hidden. But I suspect he's there," Harry said.

"And what, you think he'll just duel you?" the portrait of Armando Dippet said.

"If I can get him alone and away from prying eyes, yes. He's not about to fight the entire French ministry. But I think he's arrogant enough to think that the man who took over for Dumbledore would be fun to kill. A good way of showing he's back and scary," Harry said.

"He is a very powerful dark wizard, Harry," Albus Dumbledore said.

"So am I," Harry responded.

"What?" Ron blinked. Harry chose to ignore the connotation when he responded.

"I'm at least as strong as Emily was in her prime," Harry said.

"You can't possibly know that," Hermione said.

"I think he's right," Avery said. "If that helps at all."

"It doesn't," Hermione countered.

"I've got….I can just sort of tell," Harry said.

"That doesn't get us anywhere," Hermione said.

"Emily in her prime was stronger than Dumbledore," Harry said. "Or else he would have just fought her and ended it rather than letting the war drag out."

"She never wanted to engage," Dumbledore countered.

"You ran more than she did," Harry said. "But anyway. Dumbledore beat Grindelwald. Emily beat Dumbledore."

"So Harry beats Grindelwald then," Avery said.

"Your rock-paper-scissors system here is not very sound," Fumiko said.

"Not the right analogy," Harry said.

"You get the point," Fumiko scoffed.

"I think it fits enough," Avery said.

"Anyway," Harry said. "Show up, lure him out, and put him down like Dumbledore failed to do. Problems solved."

"That is incredibly reckless," Hermione said. "And not the type of activity that the head of Hogwarts should be engaging in!"

"Probably," Harry said. "But we all know what's going to happen."

"And what's that?" Hermione asked.

"They'll figure it out. And when they fail at doing anything about it, they'll turn to Harry Potter to fix their problems. Since I'm no longer hiding in Japan, I may as well be proactive rather than reactive," Harry said.

"I agree with Miss Granger," Dumbledore's portrait said. "The headmaster should stay at Hogwarts."

"And I think it's refreshing to see someone actually take action," Phineas Nigellus said as he stifled a yawn.

"I agree," Everard's portrait said.

"I'm not opening it to a vote," Harry commented and the portraits stopped talking. Neville stepped back into the office at that moment. He'd changed into a darker outfit not dissimilar from the Auror's wore going into the field and had a bag thrown over his shoulder. Harry eyed the dark boots, pants, and top that he knew was lined with some type of enchanted material.

"Oh, Hi again, Hermione," he said, blushing slightly as he entered the office.

"Good evening, Neville," Hermione said.

"You ready?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Neville said.

"Good. Let's be on our way then," Harry said.

"What about your review?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sure it can wait a day or two. Enjoy the castle. Or I can floo you when I get back," Harry said.

"I'll be back on Sunday," Hermione said, seeming to understand she'd lost the argument. "Until then I'm going to eat the rest of your sushi and complain about you to your friends."

"Fair trade. Let's go Neville," Harry said. He stepped from his office and led his Defense professor toward the gates of the school and France.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for beta work.

Chapter 2

"You really have no regard for international law, do you?" Neville asked as the Portkey landed on the edge of the destroyed town.

"None," Harry said.

"You can't just make a portkey to the south of France on a whim with no care about who sees you when it arrives!" Neville said.

"I just did," Harry countered.

"Yes. Fine, you can. But you shouldn't. You have no idea who could have seen you. You have no idea what chaos you could cause," Neville countered.

"Or I just don't care," Harry said.

"What if you landed on someone and killed them?" Neville asked.

"I didn't," Harry said.

"Yes. But you can't just be entirely reliant on luck," Neville said. "That's amazingly self-centered and brash. You can't just get by on that."

"It's worked so far," Harry said. Neville paused as they continued to walk toward the ruins of the seaside town. Harry made no attempt to hide himself as he walked down the path. Neville caught up with him after a few steps.

"Just what happened to you?" Neville asked. It was Harry's turn to pause. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his mind wandered down a black tunnel ending with an all-too-familiar icy chill.

"A lot," Harry said.

"Going to elaborate on that?" Neville asked.

"I'd prefer not to," Harry said.

"And I'd prefer to not go into a danger zone with someone whom I'm not entirely sure has any interest in anything other than himself," Neville said. Harry took another deep breath.

"It's a long story, Neville," Harry said.

"Well, get started, we have a bit of a walk until we make it to the perimeter," Neville responded as he walked by Harry and continued toward the town. They were silent for a few steps.

"Ten years ago," Harry said. "I was lured to the ministry by Percy Weasley because they wanted to hear a prophecy about me and Lord Voldemort."

"And they needed you or her to access it," Neville said. "Why didn't they just ask?"

"I like to think they were smart enough to know I would just flat out refuse. But I'm honestly not sure. w that I would have the power to end Voldemort."

"Well it was true," Neville said.

"To an extent," Harry responded.

"You killed her, Harry," Neville said.

"To an extent," Harry said again.

"Are you going to clarify this or just be vague the entire time?" Neville said.

"I can't really do more than theorize. And theorizing about a prophecy strikes me as something an insane person would do. The short answer, again, is just that I was tricked into gong to the ministry by ministry officials. I was saved by the first person I'd truly grown to love. And then I killed her," Harry said.

"Wait. You loved Lord Voldemort?" Neville stopped in his tracks.

"At the time," Harry said.

"And now?" Neville asked.

"Now I'm older and wiser," Harry said. "And can see that she was no different from the government. They both just lied to me. They both tried to use me. They had different reasoning and practices. But their goal was identical."

"So you left," Neville said.

"So I left," Harry agreed.

"And I'm guessing you came to some sort of realization along the way," Neville said.

"That they were both wrong," Harry agreed. "It wasn't hard to see with the ministry. The government in power was more concerned with maintaining that power than doing anything productive. It had no real interest in helping people or solving problems or anything of that nature. It just wanted to win more elections and keep its station."

"And Voldemort was an insane radical that was more interested in murder than anything else," Neville said.

"She wasn't entirely wrong about that," Harry said. "Can you think of anything past death that will get Fudge out of office?"

"You can't seriously be advocating that," Neville countered.

"I am not," Harry affirmed. "But there is our problem."

"Explain?" Neville said.

"Emily truly wanted to make the world a better place. That I can't fault her for," Harry said.

"Who's Emily?" Neville asked.

"Lord Voldemort," Harry said.

"Emily?" Neville blinked.

"Emily Mary Riddle," Harry said. "She married an accountant in the fifties and become Emily Mary Price."

"You're pulling my leg, right?" Neville asked.

"No," Harry said.

"She wanted make the world a better place. And decided that wanton murder was the best course of action," Neville said.

"Yes," Harry said. "It was a dying wish, of sorts, from her husband. In the end I think her…life experience…led her to forming a wrong conclusion, which then led to the murdering. But I can't fault her intention."

"Just her means," Neville said.

"Both their means," Harry said. "Through it all, through all of the shit she had to deal with, she somehow remained an idealist. She wanted to foster change by changing the government, by changing the rules, by convincing them to change. Eventually it grew violent and failed. But she wanted change through those means. And the ministry? Well you've seen how Fudge likes to get things done."

"Well you're rather anti-ministry," Neville said. "And the government should be an instrument of change and improving lives."

"Probably," Harry said. "But it isn't. That's where she was wrong. If you want change, be the change you want. That's what I learned when I was gone. The government is too big, too slow, and too worried about self-preservation to actually help. So, I decided to just do it myself."

"The Kinnikinic orphanage, Alberta, Bihar, and Japan," Neville said.

"Exactly," Harry responded. "Those kids deserved far better than being sold off in a broken youth penitentiary system. Bihar was more of a happy accident. And Japan, well, that had more personal reasons. But, in the end, I just had to see if I could do the impossible, consequences be damned."

"That leaves out Alberta though. And I suppose Vancouver," Neville said. Harry took a deep breath before speaking.

"It does," he agreed. "Those were….different. I was chasing something. And unfortunately, someone else got to her first."

"What she okay?" Neville asked.

"No," Harry said.

"I'm sorry," Neville responded.

"It's fine," Harry said. "But the French have realized we're here."

"Oh goodie," Neville said as he peered toward three wizards approaching them. "Nothing I like more than the French."

"Good day, sirs," A voice called from the middle of three approaching wizards.

"Good evening," Harry said. Both he and Neville noticed the three men were all armed, wands casually pointed their way. Harry stopped moving and shifted into a more relaxed position, his hands up with the palms facing the men.

Of course, he knew full well that he didn't need to be armed to rid himself of their minor annoyance. But he didn't think the mere fact that there were French people in France warranted attacking on sight.

"Evening," Neville added as he himself shifted into a very similar pose.

"Good lord, is that…are you Harry Potter?" the man in the middle, a tall and handsome man with dark features asked.

"Guilty," Harry said. "Just came to see if we could lend a hand for the weekend."

"Of course, of course, I am Jacques Morin with the Department for International Relations," the man said. "Come, let me show you around."

"I don't think a tour is necessary," Harry said. "Just point me to where work needs to be done."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Jacques said. "Please come with me."

"Alright," Neville said and took the lead by stepping toward the French officials. Harry smiled as Neville had reacted exactly how he would have wanted him to without any discussion and lagged a few steps behind the other men.

Jacques Morin led them into the destroyed town. Harry had to give credit where it was due, Avery's map was nearly flawless. He couldn't help but wonder just what sources the former Death Eater had.

Neville and the Frenchman conversed for the entire walk. The two others stayed behind Harry as they walked. Jacques Morin talked with an animated flair about the destruction of the town the entire time. Neville was mostly silent but asked questions whenever Jacques started talking. Harry couldn't help but think his investigative skills returned rather quickly and that he was asking very pointed questions. Questions that Harry wasn't sure he would have thought of if their roles were reversed.

They eventually made it into the main square of the town. There were about fifty or so people milling about, going over what appeared to be the last vestiges of a shared meal. Jacques made a point of talking about how it was likely ground Zero. Harry looked at the makeshift camp set up perhaps forty odd tents littered the outer perimeter of the square. He recognized one from the World Cup all those years before.

"Harry Potter!" George Weasley yelled from across the way. Everyone in the square turned to face him.

"So much for subtlety," Harry said as the Weasley twins walked toward him.

"And Neville Longbottom!" Fred said. "And here we thought Ron might actually decide to come help."

"Really?" Harry asked, raising his brows.

"No," George said, holding his hand out to Fred. His brother plucked a galleon from his pocket and relinquished it to George.

"Didn't think so," Harry said.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom have come to help," Jacques said proudly, as if he had some part in convincing Harry to be there.

"Seemed important to lend a hand," Harry responded, waving at the crowd that gathered around him.

"What are people even doing?" Neville asked.

"Clearing rubble mostly," Fred said.

"Looking to see if anyone survived. There have been a few bodies, but mostly it's just a layer of dust," George explained.

"And the French ministry?" Harry asked.

"Keeping a perimeter and trying to identify everyone who was here," Jacques said. "Lending a hand where we can."

"How do you identify dust?" Harry asked.

"You do not," Jacques said. "We are scouring through monetary records and trying to figure out whomever spent money here and then going to identify if they are alive or not. It has been painstakingly slow."

"I imagine," Harry said.

"What's left for tonight?" Neville asked.

"Probably nothing," George said. "The work is exhausting. It's almost like there's leftover magic in the air suppressing everything."

"I noticed," Neville said.

"I didn't," Harry shrugged.

"Must be nice," Fred shook his head.

"Regardless," George said. "We'll probably just sit around and discuss the plan for tomorrow. I think we're going to try to build some actual residences as a base tomorrow and then perhaps try to begin getting through some of the large rubble piles. There might be people beneath them but so far magic doesn't indicate that at all."

"Interesting," Harry said, hoping his tone didn't betray that he found it rather uninteresting. "Well, I'm a bit full of energy at the moment. So I think I'm going to take a walk around instead."

"I shall accompany you," Jacques Morin said.

"Oh, that's not necessary. It seems I've already kept you from dinner. I'll be fine."

"Nonsense. I insist, Mister Potter. It is the hospitable thing to do," Jacques said. The two men that had accompanied them earlier walked back over and flanked Jacques. They were each taking bites from a chunk of bread.

"Alright then," Harry said.

"I'll come with," Neville said. "Never liked sitting around."

"Okay," Harry said. He picked a direction and started walking toward it. Neville fell into step next to him. He could hear Jacques and the other two men behind him.

"How could magic even do this?" Neville asked they cleared some rubble only to see more of the same as they stepped out. He took out his wand and lit the tip silently, holding it up to get a better view in the quickly darkening sky.

"With a lot of power and very few qualms just about anything is possible," Harry said.

"It can't be that easy," Neville said.

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't. Tell me, Neville, when was the last time you were in a fight?" Harry asked.

"Why?" Neville responded.

"Curious," Harry said.

"Oslo," Neville responded, his voice immediately hardening.

"Ah, that was one hell of a scrap," Harry said.

"It was," Neville said. "I've always wondered something. Well, a few things really, about that night."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"Well, I mean, why were you even there?" Neville asked. "You shouldn't have been anywhere near it."

"I don't take kindly to fledgling cultists trying to siphon life out of the world and then claiming they're doing it to bring back The Dark Lord. In fairness to me, though, I thought there would only be like ten of them."

"You aren't big on recon are you?" Neville asked.

"Not when angry, no," Harry said.

"Good to know the thought Lord Voldemort's return at least still makes you angry," Neville said.

"Nah. They wouldn't have succeeded anyway. It was more than they gained credibility by throwing her name around carelessly. That irritated me," Harry said.

"Right," Neville shook his head.

"You implied there was more than one thing you wondered about that night," Harry said.

"Well I'm not even sure I want to know how you and Avery managed to take out sixty plus wizards without seeming to break a sweat or get hit by anything in the process because I know you'll just give me some coy answer," Neville said.

"Hey now we didn't do all of the work. The ICW task forces got quite a few," Harry said.

"Eighteen. Of sixty total, we tagged eighteen. You and Avery accounted for forty-two," Neville commented. "And I am still no closer to learning how you did it."

"Well you've been in a fight," Harry responded. "You know it's more instinct and reaction than anything else. So saying how really has to be a silly coy answer because that's the most truthful answer one can give."

"Anyway, what really got me was your entrance and how you two moved," Neville said.

"Forgive me but I don't remember the entrance," Harry said.

"Well, I probably shouldn't have said entrance. You both just apparated in. Which, I mean, should have been difficult but not impossible. But we all thought you were Death Eaters when you started moving around in that black mist. How do you do that?" Neville asked.

"Oh, it's not that hard," Harry said as a black mist started to swirl around him. A moment later he flew to the top of a rubble heap as Neville started to climb it.

"Well it looks evil as hell," Neville said.

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "I think I could probably change the color of it if I wanted to. But that would take more effort and more concentration and be more likely to result in a mistake. It seems to default to black."

"Well, how do you do it?" Neville asked.

"It's like Apparating, but you don't force yourself there. It's hard to explain without doing it. You just let the magic take you and as you drift off you wrest control back from it. It's less intensive than actually Apparating and you don't have to know your specific destination," Harry explained.

"And it's faster than walking," Neville said. "Even if it makes you look like a Death Eater."

"Please. Not all of them could do it. It takes a fair bit of practice. I spent weeks figuring it out outside of some tiny city in Montana. The locals kept thinking the floating mist thing was some type of alien or alien craft," Harry said.

"You did it in full view of muggles?" Neville asked, his expression one of utter disbelief.

"I did it at night in a secluded forest, but it's not the easiest thing to control at first and you don't always wind up over what you think you're going to be over," Harry said.

"Hermione was right, you are amazingly reckless," Neville responded.

"I get that a lot. But if I was so reckless I probably wouldn't still be in one piece," Harry said.

"That or you're just amazingly durable," Neville responded. "I seem to remember you being able to take a beating. I'm going to go with that option instead."

"Well is there anything else you wanted to know?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, one thing," Neville responded.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"If our roles had been reversed. Would you have done what I did?" Neville asked. Harry paused on top of the rubble and turned to look at Neville. Jacques Morin and the two men with him hadn't bothered to scale up after them. Instead they were just staring up at the hill. Harry shifted into smoke once more and found himself on another pile, further away from the town square.

The distinct crack of Apparition sounded throughout the open air as Neville appeared next to him.

"Is that my answer?" the Defense professor asked.

"No," Harry said. "It isn't. That isn't an easy question."

"I know," Neville responded.

"I don't know that I would have been brave enough to stand up to you, Ron, and Hermione in first year. I don't know that I would have had the drive to become an Auror. I don't know that I would have gone any further than getting the most basic of acceptance and finally fitting in. So as a whole I think I would have valued my career too much. I think I would have been too afraid of losing my acceptance to let you leave there unimpeded," Harry said.

"I see," Neville said.

"I do think you did the right thing. For more reasons than just personal attachment. And you did the right think despite knowing the consequences that were coming. You've earned everything you have. And you struggled for it. You're far more of a Gryffindor than me," Harry said.

"I don't think that's true," Neville said. "You've certainly earned a great deal. And most people would say you exemplify the Gryffindor ideal."

"Good thing groups are usually wrong," Harry said. "You were far braver in that moment than I would have been."

"Well I'm not going to argue with that," Neville said.

"Good," Harry said.

"So, when's the fight coming?" Neville asked.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You wouldn't have asked the last time I was in a fight if you didn't expect one coming our way," Neville said.

"I could just like to be prepared," Harry said.

"If I had to guess I'd say you prefer to be as unprepared as possible," Neville responded.

"You might have a point there," Harry said.

"And you're intentionally walking as far away from the relief workers as possible," Neville said as the soft French words of Jacques Morin and his companions continued to follow them through the rubble. Harry smoked his way further away from the Frenchmen and paused while Neville followed.

"You picked up on that?" Harry asked.

"Of course I did. And you're gradually growing tenser with each passing moment. So I can assume you expect something to happen," Neville said.

"I thought it would happen before we made it out of the blast radius," Harry said, eyeing the fields that they were approaching.

"Thanks for the heads up," Neville responded, rolling his eyes.

"No problem," Harry said.

"Who's the threat?" Neville asked.

"Grindelwald," Harry said.

"Obviously," Neville responded. "But you can't expect he'll be here."

"Sure I can. He strikes me as the type to observe and gloat. Where better to do that than here. And given that he hasn't come out and claimed and responsibility I would think he's waiting to see how best to play this," Harry said.

"If you blew up a magical city, wouldn't you have step two of the plan in place?" Neville asked.

"I mean we just got done talking about me and planning," Harry responded.

"Okay, fine," Neville said.

"But yes, I like to think I wouldn't go in blind to stage two," Harry said.

"So why wait so long after to do anything?" Neville asked.

"I think he's waiting to see just who's attention his little stunt draws. Perhaps to see how long their attention lasts. To see how the various governments react. Hell, I don't know. Maybe he's just trying to see how much time can go between tragic events to properly plan before they all seem connected," Harry shrugged as he spoke.

"None of that seems like a great choice," Neville said.

"Well I'm not a megalomaniac," Harry said.

"Yet I don't think you'd want to debate that with Hermione," Neville said.

"I don't want to debate anything with Hermione. Like most things I get bored halfway through," Harry said.

"Do I even want to know what all that includes?" Neville asked.

"Probably not," Harry said.

"Have you two?" Neville asked.

"Not recently," Harry said.

"I see," Neville said. "With you being back, are you going to…"

"I don't know. Maybe after she settles into the job and calms down a bit. Right now she's a little too persistent and focused for my taste. A little too afraid to put her hair down and just have fun," Harry said. "I'm not sure she'll be able to separate work from life and I don't want to, say, go on a date and have her lecture me about Hogwarts the entire time."

"Ah," Neville said. He paused for a moment. "Out of curiosity. Would you be opposed if I asked her out?"

"Go for it," Harry said, despite the fact that the thought of Neville and Hermione left a sour taste in his mouth. But they were both adults. What they wanted to do was their own business. Still, perhaps he should have eased his way back into England rather than just showing up. Maybe then things would be different between he and his older friends.

"Is she still interested in…?" Neville asked.

"I doubt she'd say no if I asked her out," Harry said.

"Are you going to?" Neville said.

"I don't know," Harry said. "It's been so busy and now this. If you want to give it a go, I say go for it."

"It has been a crazy few months," Neville agreed.

"And we're to the end of the blast radius," Harry said.

"And no sign of anyone," Neville said.

"And here I thought you had years of Auror training," Harry said.

"I do," Neville slid his wand out, gazing around the area. The three Frenchmen stopped a few paces away from them.

"Is everything alright?" Jacques Morin said.

"I'm not sure," Neville said.

"Peachy," Harry said.

"How about with you, Gellert?" Neville said

"Excuse me?" Jacques Morin looked startled.

"You didn't think that I was that daft, did you? You show up as soon as we do. You follow me around the entire time. You try to stay behind me without me noticing. I mean I can be a bit dense, but I'm also a trained investigator," Neville said.

"And I had a hunch but have been known to be mildly paranoid," Harry said as he stepped between Neville and Jacques Morin.

"You two are insane!" The Frenchmen yelled, his eyes darting around like a frightened animal. The two men with him took a few steps away from him as he spoke.

"You can either show yourself or I can force you out," Harry said.

"Fine, boy," he scoffed as his features started to change before their very eyes. He grew a few inches, his hand turning from a chestnut brown to a pale blonde as his eyes lightened into a piercing blue. His clothing shifted into a black uniform. And Harry was reminded of a battlefield half a century earlier. A battlefield he'd never actually been to. Yet it seemed so very familiar as Gellert Grindelwald loomed before him.

His youth struck Harry. Gellert Grindelwald should have looked much older than forty. But yet, here he was, looking exactly how he had in the archived footage from the war. Every details seemed the same, down to the dark uniform. Although the dual lightning bolts he'd sported in his prime were now absent. Harry wondered how he'd regained his youth. But, in the end, he figured it didn't matter.

Moments later the clothing on the two men with him also shifted into less elaborate versions of what Grindelwald wore.

"You think you can handle them?" Harry asked, nodding toward the two men.

"What, you don't want all three?" Neville asked.

"Didn't want you to feel left out," Harry said. "I'm content with the grandpa."

"Grandpa?" Neville laughed. "I wish I looked that good when I was a hundred or so."

"You two will regret your flippancy," Grindelwald said, drawing his wand and holding it loosely at his side.

"Stronger men than you have promised me that," Harry said. "And yet here I am."

"Draw your wand boy," Grindelwald said. "I like my toys to at least have a fighting chance."

"Eh, I don't think so," Harry said.

"If you want to die a coward," Grindelwald said.

"Oh, it's not that," Harry said. "I just don't think I'll need it."

"Harry, I don't think now is the time to play around," Neville said.

"He's used to being the biggest fish in the sea," Harry responded. "And he's about to get a nice lesson on what happens when you come across a bigger fish. I'm going to educate him."

"You think you have a chance?" Grindelwald laughed. "I must say, I like your spirit, Harry Potter. I can see what Albus saw in you."

"I suspect he was more annoyed with me than anything," Harry said.

"For a time," Grindelwald agreed. "But he always wished you'd come back. He said so in his multitude of letters."

"Of course he kept in touch," Harry rolled his eyes. "The holocaust wasn't enough to find you irredeemable."

"That was more the Austrian than myself," Grindelwald said.

"Sure looked like you tried hard to stop it," Harry said.

"No reason to. It kept him entertained and they were simply muggles," Grindelwald said.

"Yeah, indifference makes it worse," Harry said.

"Does it? I don't see you reacting to every little case of muggles killing muggles," Grindelwald said.

"I'm uninterested in being their lord and savior. But I would certainly step in to stop a genocide," Harry said.

"Rwanda," Grindelwald responded.

"I was like fourteen," Harry said.

"Still you sat idly by," Grindelwald said.

"He is not all there," Neville said.

"Yeah half a century in prison probably does that to you," Harry said.

"Are you going to insult my mental capacities or are you going to try in vain to defeat me, Mister Potter?" Grindelwald asked.

"Honestly, I was waiting on you to make the first move. Seemed low to attack an old man," Harry said.

"And I was standing here thinking attacking an unarmed child was a low move," Grindelwald said.

"I swear, its boy and child all the time. Fudge, Dippet, and now Gellert Grindelwald. Do I look young as hell or something?" Harry turned to Neville as he spoke.

"I'd guess early twenties," Neville said.

"A bit on the young side then," Harry said.

"Not young enough to be called a child, though," Neville retorted.

"I didn't think so. You'll be fine with the two minions?" Harry asked.

"We should take them together and then focus on the grandpa," Neville responded.

"I'll be fine," Harry said. He stepped away from Neville and toward the taller blonde man. Grindelwald slashed his wand toward Harry as he moved. A shockwave exploded from Harry a moment later. The power was enough to knock Grindelwald and his men back a few feet as well as shattering one of the piles of rubble nearby.

Harry heard the crack of apparition as soon as he cast the spell. He saw Neville appear behind one of Grindelwald's stumbling followers. A quick blast of red light took the first man out of the fight. Grindelwald spun around and slashed his wand toward Neville. The former Auror apparated away once more but Harry slashed his own hand up at the same time causing a pile of rubble to block the spell.

Harry didn't give the old man the time to recover. He thrust his hand out and another blast of pure energy sped toward Grindelwald. It hit him square in the back and forced him into the pile of rubble Harry had just conjured.

The rubble exploded away, pieces of it flying everywhere. One large chunk impacted the follower who Neville had stunned, collapsing a chunk of his head. Neville shielded the rubble that flew toward him, while the remaining follower ducked behind some cover.

Another crack of apparition resounded through the area. The remaining follower appeared directly before Neville, just inside his shield. He shouted something in German but before he could finish the spell Neville threw his shoulder into him and they both went tumbling down the debris.

Blasts of light flew toward Harry and he turned to face Grindelwald once more. He held up his left hand and let the magic impact against it. He felt the power slip into him as the magic impacted against his skin. Each spell caused him to glow faintly in the evening light. Grindelwald kept up the barrage until the area was nearly bright enough to be mistaken for day.

"What are you doing?" the old man yelled.

"Blocking your spells," Harry said as blandly as he could muster. As he finished speaking he released the energy and directed all of it as Grindelwald. All that followed was a brilliant flash of light and heat with an almost inhuman sounded scream.

"Well that was easy. Hope there's enough left to identify the body" Harry said to no one in particular as the light faded. He paused for a moment and turned to find Neville. He found his friend restraining the remaining man with conjured ropes.

"What the hell did you do? I thought another bomb went off. I'm sure we'll have company shortly" Neville said.

"Trick I picked up in Bihar. I'll show you when we get back to Hogwarts," Harry said. "Good work with those two."

"I look forward to it…Harry! Look out!" Neville yelled. Harry spun around and brought a shield charm to the front of his mind, but he was too slow.

A cutting hex cleaved through his left arm, a chunk of flesh impacting on the nearby rubble. An agonized scream ripped through him before his eyes flashed toward where the spell originated. His shield charm blocked the second and the third and then he saw Gellert Grindelwald once more.

The man looked singed. Smoke rose from him as he leveled his wand directly on Harry. Part of his uniform had burned away and his icy blue eyes shot around as if taking in every detail of the battlefield in mere moments. Harry glared at him, keeping a large bright shield between he and the older man. He took a moment to grit his teeth against the pain in his arm. He held his right hand up and directed it toward the wound, letting magic flow from him and back into the arm, wincing against the pain as it corrected his flesh.

"That was a mistake," Harry said.

"Oh I doubt that," Grindelwald responded. "Your best shot was interesting. Unique almost. But it was not very effective."

"You've just made me mad now," Harry said. He flexed his left arm as the healing magic finished its work. Once that felt normal enough he lowered the shield and reached for his wand.

"I always assumed you'd remind me of Albus. But you aren't very like him, are you?" Grindelwald said.

"Depends on my mood," Harry retorted.

"But you do remind me of someone. I can't quite place it yet. But there is something very familiar about you," Grindelwald said.

"You won't live long enough to remember who," Harry said.

"Oh? Are we being serious now, boy?" Grindelwald taunted, his lips curving into a slight smirk as he spoke.

"I am going to enjoy this," Harry said, shaking out his left shoulder as his eyes narrowed onto Grindelwald.

"Yes, that's the look, the narrowed eyes, the pent-up anger. So very familiar. But just where do I remember that from. Oh well, I guess it's unimportant," Grindelwald said.

"Are you going to fight or talk?" Harry asked.

"Civilized combat should always include a little conversation," Grindelwald said.

"You're insane," Harry said. He slashed his wand repeatedly at Grindelwald, stepping toward him with each blast. He felt his magic buckle against the man's counter. He felt Grindelwald fall back with each impact. He felt his own fury pouring from him. He felt everything, until he didn't.

He'd lost track of how many spells he cast. The number wasn't important. He knew he'd overwhelm Grindelwald eventually. His strength was in his determination and stamina. So he just kept firing. Until a blast broke back through and he was forced to pause and shield himself.

"You're quick for an old man," Harry said, wondering why he hadn't sensed that spell until it was almost too late. Perhaps his attention hadn't been nearly as focused as he'd thought. Grindelwald stood across the field from him. The same distance away he'd been when Harry started his barrage. He shook out his left arm as the power from repeated spells dissipated from him.

"And you're a bit of a disappointment. Your first trick was much better," Grindelwald said.

"And yet you've done absolutely nothing of consequence," Harry said. A moment later the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he dived beneath a bit of rubble. Grindelwald launched it back at him and Harry slashed through it easily. For a moment he thought he saw more rubble flashing around him, but he blinked it away as a trick of the eye.

"Perhaps," Grindelwald said. He slashed his wand toward the ground and Harry felt the heat rise up immediately. Harry let the black smoke envelope him once more and floated away from the lava that had appeared where he'd just been standing.

A barrage of spells hit his new location as he arrived. Harry parried them easily enough, weaving through the spells and launching a few of his own. But the barrage kept up for longer than he would have thought possible. Eventually he shifted back to smoke and charged through the barrage right to Grindelwald.

"Bombarda!" Harry yelled as he appeared. A blinding flash of light followed as Grindelwald shielded the assault. Harry continued to force power into the spell, enough that pain started to sear through him and into his wand. But he kept the spell up and soon enough Grindelwald's shield cracked and Harr's basting curse demolished the rubble they were perched on.

Harry tensed as the smoke cleared. For a moment, he thought it might be over. But there was no body beneath him. He rolled his left shoulder gently as surveyed the area, waiting for any sign of Grindelwald.

"You do have some power," Grindelwald said from a perch across the field. Harry turned on him. "But the fight is already over."

"Says the man who's landed nothing more than a cheap shot," Harry said.

"And you've done any better? Here I stand, Mister Potter. You've managed to singe my clothing. Quite frightening," Grindelwald said.

"Why are we talking?" Harry asked, staring up and Grindelwald.

"Just passing the time," Grindelwald smiled down at him. Harry rolled his shoulder again and then frowned as another voice rang through his head. Grindelwald liked spells that did more than one thing. Dumbledore had told him that. Harry shook out his left arm again.

No, he'd heard Dumbledore say that. But it hadn't been said to him. No, he'd been explaining it to a confused teenage girl as he tried to soften the blow that she'd turned into a genetic dead-end.

"You poisoned the cutter," Harry said. "And I made it worse by healing it right away. That's why my left arm is going numb."

"Very good, Mister Potter," Grindelwald said.

"How long?" Harry asked.

"Three to five minutes," Grindelwald said.

"Alright then," Harry said. "Neville?"

"Yes Harry?" Neville asked. "Should we take him together?"

"No," Harry said, unclasping the silver watch on his wrist and tossing it to Neville. "Hang onto that."

"What?" Neville caught it and stared down at it in his hand. Harry held his right hand up over his left arm. He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath before sending a cutting spell from each of his fingers. He yelled as the spells ripped through his flesh.

"Bloodletting?" Grindelwald laughed. "That won't help."

"Perhaps," Harry said, shaking his arm more and letting the blood fall to the ground beneath him. "Five minutes should be enough time though."

"I will enjoy watching the moment when you realize you are not enough to stop me. And then I will enjoy watching you die," Grindelwald said. He leveled his wand toward Harry, but Harry was already gone.

He appeared behind Gellert Grindelwald and leveled his left arm on him. Another shockwave emanated from his body. But it was less focused than his first, blood spilling to the ground around it.

Grindelwald braced himself against the magic. He raised a shield as Harry sent more spells, easier, quicker ones toward the shield. Grindelwald absorbed them without faltering. After Harry's seventh spell he started to fire back.

But Harry was gone, simply leaving a small pool of blood in his wake. He appeared behind Grindelwald once more.

As soon as he appeared, Grindelwald disappeared. It was Harry's turn to shield spells that came at him from all direction. He raised his shield windlessly, instinctually, with his left hand and winced as the spells sent pain through his wounded arm.

But he found Grindelwald in the chaos and countered until he knew his arm, and his shield would fall. Again he apparated away. This time when he appeared Grindelwald was waiting for him. Their spells collided in a flash of color as they struggled to overpower each other.

Harry forced everything he had into his magic. He focused all of his power down through his wand. He felt the energy leaving him. His mind grew light, his eyes blurry as he focused on nothing more than making sure the spell hit and ended Gellert Grindelwald. Images of a miraculous victory flashed through his mind.

But his eyes betrayed him. He didn't see victory in the light before him. Instead he saw the spells move toward him rather than Grindelwald. He tried to force it away. He tried to break the connection. But it didn't matter. He realized far too late, mere moments before the spell impacted against his chest, that he'd lost.

He flew back, landing in his own blood. He felt his ribs shattering as if part of a delayed reaction, he felt bones penetrating into his lungs. He felt the blood and bile rising to his throat. He coughed against it and felt it leave him through his mouth.

Grindelwald walked toward him, clapping as he moved.

"Bravo, Harry Potter. You fought well. Probably at least in the top ten of duels I've had. But you are not Albus Dumbledore," he said.

"Fuck you," Harry coughed.

"And now you die," Grindelwald said. He stepped toward Harry, his wand raised. Grindelwald slashed it down toward Harry, a jet of green light bursting from it. A bright green explosion and then smoke filled the sky. When it cleared, Harry looked up to see Neville Longbottom standing between him and Grindelwald.

"Not today he doesn't," Neville growled.

"That was stupid," Grindelwald said. "I was going to let you live. Someone to tell the tale, as they say. But now, I will have to punish you as well."

"Neville," Harry choked. "Watch."

"I won't go that easily," Neville said.

"Watch," Harry choked again. But it was too late. Grindelwald engaged Neville. To his credit, Neville managed to block the first two spells, and parry the third and fourth. But the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth all pierced through him.

Neville fell next to Harry, gasping for air and clutching at more wounds than he had hands.

"You do not make the top ten," Grindelwald said, stepping over them. "I think I'll make Harry watch you die before I kill him."

"Burn," Harry said, raising his right hand up toward Grindelwald. No magic flew from his fingers.

"Effective," Grindelwald laughed.

"It was," Harry choked, his hand falling to the ground. Grindelwald laughed in the cool night air, his confidence apparent on his face. He didn't notice the droplets of blood sliding toward Harry. He didn't see them rising around him. And he didn't have time to react as the blood flew toward him, turning to fire.

Grindelwald raised a shield against the flames, but part of the fire splashed around it and caught him in the face and shoulders. He screeched as Harry's blood-fire burned through his skin.

Harry reached out with his right hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around Neville's arm. He closed his eyes and focused as hard as he could, hoping he had enough left for one more spell. One challenging spell. Away, he thought over and over, away, away, away. He didn't care where, he just needed to get them away.

He splinched himself, he knew. He could feel the sharp pain in his legs. But he couldn't see it. He could barely open his eyes. Everything was fuzzy. There was only pain and blood. But Neville seemed to come through alright. And so Neville would have to save him.

"Watch," Harry said again, gagging against the blood in his throat, wondering if he'd drown on it before the poison killed him. "My watch."

"What about it?" Neville choked out. Harry thought every word sounded like agony. Neville struggled but managed to slide his hand into his pocket. His motions were slow and clunky, but he drew out the silver watch.

"Top button, side," Harry gagged. "Hit it."

"Okay," Neville said. His hands fumbled around the face of the watch, his thumb slipped against the metal. But on his second attempt he pressed the button. Harry closed his eyes and let the blackness envelope him.

Moments later, two loud cracks filled the air.

"No…" Neville gagged. "He found us?"

"Oh God," Fumiko Avery gasped loudly.

"Forget the Portkey. We'll have to take them back individually," Alexander Avery said.

"I…I…I don't think I can go that far carrying someone," Fumiko said.

"You have to," Alexander said as Harry drifted away before them.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Author's Note: Rpeh for the beta work.

Chapter 3

"Tell me. Did you think that was going to work?" a soft voice said from behind him. He turned but there was nothing there, just a vast emptiness.

"Yes, I did," Harry said to the void.

"And what did you learn?" the voice asked again.

"Not to take a poisoned cutter to the shoulder?" Harry responded.

"Do you think that's why you lost fight?" the voice asked.

"It played a large part," Harry said, turning around again to stare into the void from another angle. The speaker was nowhere to be found.

"You've learned nothing," the voice sighed.

"Oh? And what should I have done differently then?" Harry asked, feeling quite annoyed at being chastised by a specter in an invisible void.

"Not rushed headlong into a situation where you had no chance of victory," came the calm response.

"No chance? Please," Harry said.

"You've seen him fight before. You've read about him. You've researched him. Do you think he was trying?" the voice asked. Harry frowned. He focused on what he knew of Grindelwald, on what he'd seen of Grindelwald. There hadn't been a bright and powerful aura like he often displayed in combat, there had been no focus, there had been no urgency from him. All that Grindelwald had displayed was amusement.

"Perhaps not," Harry said.

"You hit him with enough power to kill most normal men. And all that managed to do was singe his robes. All you've done is proven you aren't a threat to him," the voice said.

"If I'm not a threat to him. Then no one is a threat to him. No one will be able to beat him," Harry said.

"Perhaps. Perhaps you shouldn't try to beat him in one on one combat. It's a romantic notion, sure, but a stupid one," the voice said.

"No one else should need to die while I clean up Dumbledore's mess," Harry said.

"Again, a noble notion. But I fear a stupid one," the voice said.

"If Dumbledore could beat him I can beat him," Harry said.

"Probably," the voice agreed. "But there's a lot we don't know about that battle, now isn't there."

"What, are you saying Dumbledore didn't beat him?" Harry asked.

"No," the voice responded.

"So why are we arguing about it?" Harry asked.

"You're arguing with yourself," the voice responded. "Perhaps you should figure that out yourself."

"Great, so I'm going crazy," Harry said.

"No more than normal. But it is time to wake up now," the voice said. And the void faded. There was blackness. But then, for the briefest of moments, he saw nothing but ice and tundra and billowing snow before his eyes opened to the dim confines of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He shot upward in surprise as his eyes adjusted.

"Lay back down," a familiar voice said.

"Priya?" Harry asked. He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was the Headmaster's bedroom, the highest room of the staff tower in the palace. A tower so magically protected from the students that Harry hadn't even realized it existed until he'd gotten the job. He'd always assumed that whenever he couldn't see a Professor on the Marauder's Map that they were off campus. But he'd since learned that there were still some secrets that Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs hadn't discovered.

He made a mental note to tease Padfoot about that the next time he saw him. Which, given Sirius's current interest in lounging on the beaches of Brazil, might be a while. Oh well, he could write him a letter.

"Yes," Priya Patel responded. She'd been a Ravenclaw two years ahead of him and had gone on to become a certified healer. She'd spent three years as the head nurse at his school in Japan before returning to work under her grandmother at St. Mungo's.

"Why are you here?" he asked. His voice didn't sound right. It sounded weaker than it should have, and talking seemed to hurt. Neither of those were particularly good signs.

"Because someone walked in on me as I was stepping out of the shower claiming that you were dead," Priya responded.

"Sorry," Fumiko said from the corner of the room. Harry's gaze shifted to her and he saw her blushing.

"And I'm supposed to be in Mumbai in six hours for a girlfriend's wedding. So next time you get yourself killed, can you check my calendar first?" Priya scolded.

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm more disappointed I wasn't invited to the wedding," Harry said, sitting up again.

"Don't," Priya scolded, placing her hand on his chest and pushing him back against the pillows. "The last thing I need is some weird white boy wandering around my family."

"Your grandmother likes me," Harry said.

"And I'm still not sure why or how because she doesn't like anyone. Who you remind her of is a mystery," Priya scoffed.

"How's Neville?" Harry asked.

"Better than you," Priya said. "Poppy is taking care of him. She'll probably keep him on bedrest for the entire night but I would think he's mostly healed by now."

"What's still wrong with me. I can't feel my left arm," Harry said. He reached over with his right arm and could feel it was still there. But it couldn't feel his touch. So he hit it harder to see if that had the desired effect. It didn't.

"Don't do that. Whatever poison you managed to get into you was incredibly difficult to remove. It stayed in the flesh through all healing attempts and even amputation and regrowth," Priya said.

"That's impossible," Harry said.

"You'd think that," Priya responded. "Yet here you are. Alex, Fumiko, Poppy and myself all had to go in and fight it on a basic level in each inch of your muscle and then regrow it. As is you should recover. But it's a very good thing that you made it back as soon as you did."

"You let Avery operate on me?" Harry frowned. His head still felt a little bit fuzzy and he suspected he'd consumed quite a few medical potions while unconscious.

"I did," Priya said.

"Gross. How long was I out?" Harry asked.

"It's still Saturday," Avery said, peering at his watch. "Evening, but still Saturday."

"So Hermione isn't utterly furious at me then," Harry said.

"Oh, no. She is," Hermione Granger said. Harry winced and turned toward the desk in the corner of his bedroom. Hermione lifted her head from the desk and stared at him. Tears had smeared her makeup and her hair was an utter mess.

"Well I didn't explode," Harry said.

"You nearly got yourself killed!" Hermione yelled.

"I'm fine," Harry said.

"No, you nearly died," Priya said with as much force as she could muster. "A few minutes later and you would have croaked for sure. I don't care how durable you think you are."

"Maybe," Harry said, as if he didn't believe the possibility of that. Both Fumiko and Alexander eyed him carefully for a moment. Before looking at each other.

"There is no maybe, Harry! You ran off and nearly died. What even happened!" Hermione shouted.

"What I said would happen," Harry said.

"I remember listening quite intently to what you thought would happen," Avery said. "And nowhere in that do I remember you saying, 'And then I'm going to nearly die,' so forgive us for thinking that you may be fibbing a bit."

"We showed up. We were met by some French official and his underlings who showed us around town and to where the relief efforts were being stationed. Neville and I got bored and decided to wander the town a bit. The aforementioned Frenchie decided that he would accompany us. Turns out he was Grindelwald in disguise. Neville took care of the underlings and I fought Grindelwald," Harry explained.

"Fought?" Priya scoffed.

"I'm assuming that you didn't win," Alexander said.

"I did not," Harry said.

"Was it close?" Fumiko asked, her voice sounding quite small.

"That doesn't matter!" Hermione scoffed. "You can't just go rushing off trying to kill dark wizards. If you wanted to do that you should have become an Auror!"

"In fairness I don't think they can just go rushing off to kill dark wizards either. I think they need like governmental approval and stupid things like that," Harry said.

"Now you're just being flippant," Hermione said.

"And not answering the question," Avery said.

"I think the condition of he and Mr. Longbottom answered the question adequately," Priya said.

"It was not close," Harry agreed.

"Was it at least a good fight?" Avery asked.

"I'm sure it looked like one," Harry responded.

"So no," Avery said.

"He kicked my ass," Harry said.

"I see," Avery said.

"I did hit him with some blood magic just before Apparating away. If I'm lucky it melted through his skull and problem solved," Harry said.

"Fred and George rushed toward the light during your duel. A few others followed them. They saw Grindelwald but, thankfully, not you. They've put two and two together when you were nowhere to be seen. But others haven't yet," Hermione explained.

"So Grindelwald survived," Harry said.

"Yes. But disappeared when more people showed up," Hermione said.

"I'm surprised he didn't just kill them," Harry said.

"That would have made the most sense," Avery agreed.

"Grindelwald's platform didn't often include senseless slaughter of magical people," Hermione said.

"Yet he blew up a town," Harry countered.

"We don't know that for sure," Hermione said.

"Oh, I'm sure it was the non-magical terrorists then," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione groaned. "While I do think your hunch is right. The truth is, we don't know who did it."

"Then why was he there?" Harry asked.

"Posing as a French official aiding the relief effort? Perhaps he just wanted to help. He could spin it that way," Hermione said.

"She has a point," Priya interjected. "Grindelwald can't just show up and help. He's a wanted man for the violence perpetrated against muggles. But he can hide and help."

"And jump Harry Potter who showed up to help?" Harry asked.

"That is harder to explain away. But Grindelwald had a history of liking duels with powerful people. Perhaps you were just amusing to him," Hermione said.

"Amusing enough to try to kill me?" Harry laughed. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Yes, because no one else has ever acted that way," Avery scoffed.

"Point," Harry sighed.

"So, what did you accomplish then?" Avery said.

"Well, at the very least, I think I convinced Grindelwald I'm not really a threat to whatever he's planning. If I'm being optimistic that means he won't bother doing anything about Hogwarts for a while which gives me some time to lick my wounds," Harry said.

"And if you're being a pessimist he'll decide that you're weak and show up here with another one of his magical bombs," Avery said.

"Well, he might. I think the Hogwarts defenses would be able to take one and come out standing," Harry responded.

"You must have gotten hit on the head. You're being oddly positive tonight," Avery said.

"I am going to pretend that you didn't just entertain the notion of Gellert Grindelwald blowing up the school and all the students in it," Hermione said.

"And I'm going to go take a power nap before my portkey to Mumbai," Priya said.

"Can I eat?" Harry asked.

"You can do whatever you want," Priya said. "I would just try to get some sleep. If your arm turns green again you're going to have to go to the hospital because then it's beyond my or Poppy's abilities to heal. Past that I would say just don't go running off to duel any dark wizards."

"Thanks for your help," Harry said.

"I'll walk Healer Patel out and fetch you something from the kitchens," Fumiko said.

"Make sure you don't mention to Dobby that I'm hurt. I really don't want to deal with that," Harry said.

"I should make you deal with that for being so stupid," Fumiko said as she and Priya left the bedroom.

"I can't believe you'd go running off like that, Harry," Hermione said.

"I'm not really sure what's surprising about that," Harry said. "Given that running straight into situations I shouldn't be near is pretty much what I do."

"Oh, don't be flippant with me," Hermione said.

"This is, at least, better than his usual reaction," Avery said. "Normally he sulks more after he gets his ass kicked."

"Well you know," Harry shrugged. "Can't always be negative about everything."

"Yes, you can," Avery said.

"You're just giving him an excuse to not talk about how stupid his plan was," Hermione scoffed.

"It was a great plan," Harry said. "I just didn't think Grindelwald would be that much more powerful than me."

"There's no way," Avery said. "I've seen you. I can't fathom that."

"And yet he just smacked me around and has me on bedrest for now," Harry said. He figured by then Priya wouldn't pop back in and scold him, so he sat up on the bed, resting his back against the headboard.

"Except you were probably being you and not taking the fight serious," Avery said.

"Do I ever not take a fight serious?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Fumiko said as she entered the room. She was carrying a covered tray.

"I'm hurt," Harry said.

"Yes, you are," Fumiko said. "That's why we called the healers. Alex might be onto something with the head injury. You seem slower than usual."

"That's not what I meant." Harry said.

"I know," Fumiko said as she placed the tray down on Harry's bedside table and lifted the top from the tray to revealing a hearty looking beef and potato stew and a large chunk of bread.

"I can do that," Hermione said quietly.

"It's fine," Fumiko said. Harry reached for the bread.

"You shouldn't be up," Hermione said.

"Hungry," Harry retorted.

"Let him eat," Fumiko said.

"He'll be easier to pry on a full stomach," Avery said.

"Pry?" Hermione asked.

"He's in too good of a mood," Avery said. "He figured something out that he doesn't want to share."

"I have no problem sharing," Harry said.

"So, share," Avery said.

"Can't, eating," Harry responded through a mouthful of potato.

"Love?" Fumiko asked.

"Yes?" Avery responded.

"What was that dessert the elves made tonight?" Fumiko asked.

"A peanut butter cheesecake," Avery said.

"Right it was phenomenal. I think I'll summon an elf to get me another slice. What was that one's name?" Fumiko asked with a faux sweetness.

"Dob-" Avery started.

"Just let me finish eating in peace!" Harry gagged out through a chunk of bread.

"Oh alright," Fumiko sighed.

"What are you hiding, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"The door opened," Harry said. Hermione looked toward his closed bedroom door. Fumiko froze, Avery whistled.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"When?" Avery asked.

"Oh no," Fumiko frowned.

"When I was out," Harry said. "It closed again. But that doesn't matter. It was open long enough."

"And so you want to chase that again," Avery said.

"Yes," Harry said. "As soon as I'm done eating."

"You're in no condition to travel," Fumiko said. "You just said you can't feel your left arm!"

"Well, sure, but my right arm is fine," Harry said.

"Not funny," Fumiko muttered.

"No," Hermione said.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"You are not leaving again! You are the Headmaster of Hogwarts! You can't just go running off constantly chasing down Grindelwald!" Hermione said.

"I'm not going to chase him down. I have a completely different plan in mind," Harry said. "And if it works I won't need to chase down Grindelwald."

"What?!" Hermione yelled. "No! I don't care. You're not doing it. You need to stay at Hogwarts!"

"Fine," Harry sighed.

"Really?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Really," Harry said as he turned his attention back to his stew.

"You're just going to send Alex," Hermione responded.

"He can't," Avery said. "I would refuse to go."

"Why?" Fumiko asked.

"Because I think he's making a terrible decision if he chooses to go down that path," Avery said. "And one I do not agree with."

"What?" Harry asked.

"I don't think we…you..should go down that path," Avery said.

"You didn't think that in Canada," Harry said.

"Canada was a decade ago," Avery said. "I thought we were on the same page."

"We were," Harry said. "But circumstances have changed."

"No. They haven't," Avery said.

"Grindelwald is back," Harry said.

"And we can deal with that. Through the proper channels," Avery said.

"The proper channels are worthless," Harry said.

"Maybe," Avery said. "But you always talk about wanting to facilitate change. This could be a step to do that. This could be what the ministry needs."

"And how many would have to die before that happens? That's unacceptable," Harry said.

"And throwing yourself at it repeatedly is an acceptable solution?" Fumiko asked.

"It certainly isn't a solution that's going to spur the government into action. Hell, it wouldn't shock me if Fudge just saw it as a way to rid himself of Harry Potter," Avery said.

"So, you suggest I drag my feet like Fudge and hope it goes away?" Harry asked.

"No," Avery said. "But you were there. And you're Harry Potter. Use that. Expose him. Go international. Try to rally people to you. Create a force that can fight him. Don't just rush in and attempt to fight him on his terms."

"I'd just be leading more people to their deaths," Harry said.

"That happens in wars," Avery said.

"I'm not going to sacrifice people," Harry said.

"Then you're not going to be an effective leader," Avery said.

"Alex," Fumiko scoffed.

"I don't want to lead people," Harry said. "I just want to solve the problem."

"It's hard to solve the problem if you aren't going to lead against the problem," Avery said.

"You thought this was a good idea a few months ago," Harry said

"No," Avery said. "I thought it was an interesting solution to a particular problem. If you recall, I placed it at third of our three solutions."

"Traitor," Harry said with a scowl. Avery scowled right back.

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Hermione said.

"I need to pack," Harry said as he slipped from the bed. He wobbled a bit on his feet as the room spun around him, but he managed to keep his balance.

"Harry you shouldn't be getting up!" Fumiko scoffed.

"I'm fine," Harry said, doing his best to hide the sudden vertigo. Fumiko frowned at him, but Avery shook his head.

"Do you think you should leave tonight?" he asked.

"I don't have much time. But it finally makes sense. I need to chase it again. Before it's too late," Harry said.

"It will always be too late, Harry. It's just Canada all over again. And I'm not sure you can take that again. I'm not sure that I should let you. I made a promise," Avery said. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and stepped toward Harry.

Harry paused for a moment and stared down at the piece of paper. The three words on it were written in a purple ink that contained flecks of silver. He shook his head as he stared.

"Protect the boy," he read aloud. "That wasn't a promise, Avery. It was an order."

"All the more reason to follow it then," Avery said, folding the paper back up and tucking it into his pocket once more.

"One problem. I'm not a boy any longer. And I really don't need protecting from anything," Harry said.

"Except Grindewald, apparently," Hermione commented.

"Sass from Hermione?" Harry laughed in surprise.

"She has a point though," Fumiko said.

"Ouch," Harry sighed. "Also, weren't you going back to London to come scold me about my review next Sunday?"

"I was going back to London but then Fumiko and I got into your wine and then you and Neville showed up dead," Hermione said. "And it was this Sunday. As in the one hours away not days away."

"Next Sunday will be better, I should be back by then," Harry said.

"Harry, please don't do this again," Hermione said. "Look at what happened to you last time!"

"Well this time I won't be going toward someone that wants to kill me," Harry said.

"Debatable," Avery said.

"Please you know I'm right," Harry retorted.

"Is he?" Fumiko asked.

"Maybe," Avery shrugged his shoulders. "And I don't think we'll be able to stop him."

"He can barely walk!" Hermione said.

"I'll be fine in a few hours," Harry said. Thankfully the act of moving was starting to invigorate him. And he was starting to feel his left arm again. Although he could tell that was going to hurt immensely when the feeling returned. "I'm not that beat up. And I'm sure a potion or two on the way will help out."

"You shouldn't do this," Avery said once more.

"Maybe not. But I'm going to," Harry said.

"You can't possibly have to do anything other than rest right now!" Hermione yelled. Harry shook his head and thought that it was a good thing the staff rooms were all soundproofed so Hermione shrieking couldn't wake up any of the professors. Granted, they'd probably just all get the entirely wrong idea. But still, Harry was glad he could avoid that.

"No, Hermione. If I don't do this we're all as good as dead," Harry said

"God damn it Harry!" Hermione cursed. "Now you're sounding evil."

"I have to, Hermione. You don't understand. I lost. I know that to you that might not seem like much. But even now, after getting thrashed and just waking up, I could beat all of you together," Harry said.

"Hey now," Avery said, tensing as he spoke.

"And it wouldn't even be difficult. A week ago I wouldn't have hesitated to say I am the strongest wizard on the planet. And now, compared to Grindelwald, I am nothing. If we continue on like this, we will lose. I have a plan. And that plan requires me to leave immediately."

"What is running off again going to accomplish?" Hermione asked.

"Everything," Harry said.

"What if it doesn't?" Avery asked. "I know your theory. But you can't possibly have it all. And what if it backfires on you?"

"Then Grindelwald wins. Do what you can to keep everyone safe," Harry said. "But I do have one favor to ask."

"What's that?" Avery asked.

"Take off your shirt," Harry said, holding his wand up as he turned to face Avery.

"What are you two doing?" Hermione asked as Avery nodded his agreement and stepped toward Harry.

"Nothing," Harry said. "But you are going to have to wait some time before your review. Just tell Fudge that I was being uncooperative. I'm sure he'll empathize and it'll go a long way toward making him think you're on his side."

"Harry, please," Hermione frowned.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said as Avery hesitated but pulled his shirt over his head and turned his back to Harry. "But you're probably going to want to leave before this."

"Come on," Fumiko said, taking Hermione's hand and leading her out of Harry's room as Harry leveled his wand on Avery's shoulder.

* * *

Four days later and Harry wished he was back at Hogwarts. The Arctic chill was one of the most annoying things he'd ever encountered. He could warm himself, sure. But once the charm wore off it was only moments before he simply wanted to die rather than cast it once more.

His progress was annoyingly slow. He'd thought it would have taken him a day or two. Sure, he'd told Hermione a week, but that was mostly so she wouldn't hang around the castle and pester Alex and Fumiko. Instead, four days later, he found himself no closer than he was when he left Hogwarts. Well, at least he was on the right continent now.

He started each morning by summoning Dobby to his tent. The creature's eagerness always irritated him. But it would bring and make food without question and then he could send it away as he dressed in the warmest clothing he had with as many warming spells as he could before he'd exit his temporary home.

Next, he'd step out into the tundra and pack away the tent. He liked the way that sounded more than, 'waved his wand to shrink the tent.' Of course, sometimes he didn't bother with the wand.

Once that was done he closed his eyes and retreated. It took almost all of his focus to force himself to a door that wasn't really there. And one that was locked tightly shut. One that seemed to be harder and harder to get to with each passing day.

But, he would eventually find it. He couldn't open it. He didn't even try. He didn't need to. Once he'd find it, he knew which direction to go. And he would move in that direction. He'd brought a broom to start. But flying through the icy air was unbearable. So instead he walked.

Every hour or so he'd close his eyes and repeat the process. Every day it would take him less and less time to find the door. And he assumed that was because he was getting closer and closer to it.

While walking he'd think of just what led him to this point. It reminded him of his time with Avery. They'd been in Montana when it first happened. Harry had finally mastered the ghostly wraith form and they were set to move on toward California the next morning when the dreams bothered Harry.

When he'd woken up he'd made Avery turn north. He wasn't sure just where they were going. But they both knew just what they were after. And so, they made their way north. Until they came to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere in Alberta. A town that had been rocked by three mysterious animal attacks in the previous week.

Avery hadn't been that interested in the town, but something about it seemed odd to Harry. Of course, at that point, he was pretty sure Avery was more annoyed with his station than interested in helping Harry. So, Harry decided they'd stay there.

The next two days had been completely uneventful. Avery had complained about the food, the weather, Canada, and everything in between while Harry prodded around in the nearby forests and looked for signs of anything.

What irked him the most was that he found absolutely nothing. And he meant absolutely nothing. There were no signs of any sort of wildlife in the woods nearby. It confused him. And when he went to Avery, the older man just shrugged and figured the animal stayed away from the village.

Their third night marked the change. It started with howling. More howling than Harry thought a thousand dogs could have made. But nonetheless it continued. Everyone hid inside, men and women gathering firearms and blades of all types. Everyone except Harry.

When Avery found him, he'd been standing in the middle of the main street, gazing out toward the forest. They hadn't said anything. There seemed no real reason to talk. The villagers had screamed at them, told them to take cover, offered weapons. But Harry and just shook them off and taken out his wand.

The howling continued for what felt like an eternity before a line of shadows broke through the trees. He didn't remember exactly what he and Avery said. He did remember that the older man whistled when he saw them. And he remembered feeling terrified.

Perhaps it was stupidity. Perhaps it was just because he was barley sixteen at the time. But the sight of a mass of ten to fifteen foot tall wolves walking toward the town in perfect synchronization scared him.

When they charged, Harry froze. At least until Avery hit him on the shoulder. After that the light barrage started. They both fired curses at what they could only assume were amaroks. But their spells had no effect. The creatures continued to charge until they were right on top of them.

Harry threw up the biggest shield he could muster, a blinding white dome surrounded them. The wolves crashed into it and vanished in puffs of black smoke. It took them a moment to realize that the wolves had been ghosts.

More creatures came from the forest then. Giant abominations of all types. Harry raised the shield dome around the entire town as if it was second nature and walked toward the edge of it. The creatures all died aimlessly on his shield. Avery eyed him as the townsfolk came out to investigate. Most just stared in awe either at Harry or the shield.

Harry remembered being confused. Why would shades of magical creatures be attacking the town? Especially a town this far remote? And what about that had drawn him here? That didn't make sense. He wasn't chasing something that could draw him here? Was he?

It took Avery nudging him to snap him out of it. He stared off toward where Avery was gesturing on the tree-line and see what the old man saw. Two figures stood there. They appeared to be waving wands toward the town and seemed quite confused about just what had stopped their onslaught.

Harry and Avery simply looked at each other, and then apparated straight toward the other two wizards. One fled immediately. Harry had the distinct urge to follow, but the first one cast a spell that made the trees in the forest attack them. So, they took the easy way out of disenchanting them. They killed the caster.

With his death, the shades all vanished. The townsfolk joined them a moment later. Harry remembered wanting to flee. But an old man thanked them for their efforts and insisted they rest the night.

But that wasn't the same. Sure, he'd been chasing something. And he would continue to chase it. But he'd felt closer and closer every day when they'd been doing that. But now, here, on the fourth day in the Arctic. He felt like he was accomplishing absolutely nothing. The sun would set over the horizon and the search would become pointless. He'd toss the tent on the nearest suitable location and enlarge it.

He'd make himself some dinner with whatever Dobby had left from breakfast, have a drink or two, and then spend an hour or so in a warm bath, loving every second of the warmth the water provided compared to the chill of the outside air.

After that he'd throw himself on the bed think about how he managed to accomplish nothing on the previous day. It shouldn't have bothered him nearly as much as it did. But he felt like he had a limited window. He felt like every day it took, was one day closer to his excursion being a failure. And deep down he knew there would be dire consequences if he failed.

He'd drift off to sleep as he reflected on his failure. And when the morning came around he'd continue.

On the morning of the fifth day he continued east. Perhaps, he thought, for no other reason than it was the opposite direction that he'd gone all those years ago in Canada. But he knew that wasn't true. Something was pulling him east. So, he continued east and reflected on his trip to Vancouver all those years ago.

He and Avery had tailed the wizard all the way to a warehouse in the harbor district. Harry had wanted to go in immediately. But Avery had talked him out of it. Instead they observed for a few days.

Long enough for them to figure out what the wizards there were doing. Or at least getting the gist of it. They were killing people. Mostly muggles. With spells that Harry couldn't identify. But in doing so the pulled the spirits out of the bodies. At best, Harry would have called them ghosts. But they didn't seem to have the same agency as the ghosts.

It seemed they used the animal attacks as a guise for kidnapping. But Harry never really figured out if there was a logical reason for it, or if the wizards the encountered were simply entertaining themselves.

It didn't really matter, because all the ghosts died too. But they did so violently, shredding them to pieces of ectoplasm. And then after all of that they, took the remains and mixed it into some capsules that they sold.

Harry and Avery followed one of the dealers. They found him selling the capsules to a man who could barely stand. But he paid for them eagerly and consumed them almost immediately.

The man made it home, barely, before he started vomiting up blood. And then his intestines.

Harry left before he could see more, for fear of losing his own lunch. They spent the evening in a hotel bar arguing over whether or not they should act. Instead, Avery's logic won out, and they gave a tip to some Canadian ministry officials and determined to be on their way. But Harry had insisted on going back the next day. Something about it still seemed to be calling to him. Avery thought it was pointless, but he followed. And they watched once more.

But this time it was different. This time, there were far more wizards there. Probably nearing forty. And this time, they all seemed to be stationed around something. Harry snuck in for a better look, Avery at his side.

They'd contained something in the middle. They were attacking it, trying to take from it. Harry watched carefully, trying to see exactly what they were doing, trying to determine what their cause was. This ghost seemed far more potent than the ones that they'd seen before. And, judging from the number of wizards they'd, it wasn't their first attempt to break this one down.

Ten or so of the wizards cast on it at the same time. And it shrieked as soon as the spells hit it. It was blood-curdling. Harry remembered clutching his ears and trying to get the noise out of his head. When he looked up at the wraith, pieces of it floated off of the whole. Ten more wizards gathered them up and moved them toward where they were making the drug.

Harry watched them for a moment. Avery appeared next to him a moment later and placed his hand on his shoulder. Harry remembered him whispering something about how they should leave before the Canadian ministry showed.

Harry turned to go, but his attention was immediately pulled back to the wraith. And then it hit him. He understood what the wraith was. He understood why he was being drawn here. And he acted without thinking.

He didn't remember it. Every now and then he got pieces of it. But mostly he could just vaguely recall what happened when juxtaposed with the memories Avery had shown him after the fact.

He knew he landed in the middle of them, between the main cultist and the wraith. And he knew a killing curse made quick work of the man. But past that it was a blur of power and spells. He knew he used a shockwave that blasted quite a few of them away from him. And he knew he used a lot of the metal containers in the warehouse as weaponry. And he knew that, eventually, Avery joined in.

It was over before the Canadian ministry joined in. There wasn't much left of the cultists when Harry was done with them. But Harry didn't even look at that. It was entirely irrelevant to him. Instead he just stared at the wraith. It only took him a moment to see how it was bound in the center of the warehouse. And it only took him a moment to destroy those bindings.

It floated near him, looking so very transparent. He could hardly see it as it floated near him. He heard Avery talking behind him. But his attention was focused entirely on the wraith. He reached for it and it shrieked once more. This time the pained noise was enough to bring Harry to his knees.

Avery pulled him to his feet and turned him from the wraith to the Canadians. They gasped when they saw him. And then the questions flooded in. Harry tried to ignore them. He tried to let Avery answer them. But they attention kept coming back to him.

And sometime during it the wraith fled. He knew when it happened. He saw it rush away. None of the Canadians seemed to notice. But it was so faint it was hard to see if you weren't looking for it. It dived straight into the water and Harry lost any sense of it.

After that he just talked to the Canadians. They weren't happy with the carnage they saw. But they seemed afraid to move on Harry. And the drug had been killing people indiscriminately in the city and surrounding areas. They were going to have to move on it eventually. And Harry had provided the tip that allowed them to prepare to move. And then had handled the situation for them. Albeit not quite in the manner they'd intended.

For a while Harry thought for sure they were going to be arrested. But then Avery struck a deal.

Three months. The agreed to give the Canadians three months. They'd help with all of their efforts figuring out what the drug was doing, give them all of their information about Mitsue and how they worked their way to Vancouver, and do everything in their power to assist the end of the investigation. The only caveat was the Canadians had to say they left immediately and couldn't acknowledge their presence in the country.

Harry remembered being surprised when they'd agreed to those terms. But Avery explained later that the Canadians were too shocked that the issue had been resolved to really want to delve deeper into it. And their solution was going to be nearly identical to that of Harry's, so instead they were going to try to learn what was going on rather than dole out punishment.

Harry had been more fascinated by it than Avery. The Canadians put them up in a penthouse in Vancouver and after the first couple of weeks gave them pretty much free reign. Harry spent quite a lot of time poring over the spell books left behind by the cultists and determining just what they were doing.

Something about the ectoplasm of ghosts and wraiths was incredibly addicting to muggles. The head cultist had only been able to theorize about just what it was. But he'd suspected it had something to do with the magic in the ectoplasm reacting with the lack of magic in the muggles. And it made them crave it.

Unfortunately, it also had the side effect of destroying their insides and rotting away their intestines. Of course, it did that to magicals as well. And without the high and addictive factors. So they marketed it to muggles and had done quite well for themselves.

It only took a couple of weeks for the investigation to close. The Canadian Ministry decided that their records didn't need to be overly public for fear of imitators. So instead they released a very vague report and that was the end of that.

But they let Harry and Avery stay for a while longer. Harry spent his days training with the Canadian Aurors and otherwise enjoying the city. It didn't take him really long to realize he was better than them. But he enjoyed the training. Avery joined them a couple of times a week.

The months passed quickly. Harry enjoyed himself. He and Avery found they had a lot more common ground than they thought. They hung out more in the downtime and Harry thought it was during that period that Avery shifted from more of a protector to a friend.

Hell, the man even set him up with a cute chaser for the Vancouver Vampires one night. Although Harry was pretty convinced that was purely because Avery wanted to spend more time with her older beater friend. But he didn't complain.

He filled in his free time by venturing to the harbor and staring at the water. Nothing pulled at him in the same way that it had when he arrived. Or in the same way it now was in the Arctic.

He pulled himself out of the past and continued walking through the snow. He frowned to himself as he could start to see the sea on the horizon. But he kept walking toward it. He had no real plans for when he got there past probably setting up camp once more.

Maybe Avery was right. Each step he took closer to the water made it feel more like a wild goose chase. He frowned as the water drew closer. His steps closed, as if taking longer to get there would help his cause.

At least, he thought as he stepped up to the shoreline, the view was rather incredible from here. He sighed and took out the tent, tossing it toward the ground nearby and enlarging it. He started to cast his defense spells and then suddenly something tripped in his brain and the hair on his neck stood on end.

Harry slashed his wand around behind him and felt the spell connect with a shimmering object. He quickly erected a magical cage around it. The object was smaller than he thought it should be. It bounded against the walls of his cage and shrieked each time it made contact. Harry stared at it for a moment and then ducked into the tent.

He emerged a moment later with a cauldron and a package. He set the cauldron up to simmer and waited a few moments. The wraith in the cage had stopped fighting and instead was positioning itself as far away from Harry as it possibly could.

Harry focused on the cauldron for the better part of an hour. Once he decided that was ready he opened the package. He levitated a chunk of white bone and tossed it into the cauldron. It bubbled for a few seconds and then returned to normal.

Next he took a switchblade from his pocket. It opened with one push of the button on the side of the handle. He pressed the blade into his palm and let the blood drip into cauldron. He waited until it bubbled the same amount as when he added the bone and then figured his first donation was done. He healed his hand and turned his attention back to the package.

Avery's donation was next. A small chunk of flesh he'd magically preserved. He levitated it into the cauldron and waited as it bubbled once more. He took a deep breath as he stared at the cauldron.

His second donation was harder. He knew it would be more time sensitive. He paused and took the last item from the package. It looked vaguely human, except the material it was sculpted from seemed to melt despite the chill in the air. He levitated it toward the cage.

The creature inside shrieked once more, trying to avoid the humanoid object. But it failed and Harry forced it inside the chunk of melting flesh. It collapsed onto the ground, the eyes opening slowly. It collapsed to the side and curled up as if it wanted to immediately die.

Harry turned his attention away from it and went back to his second donation. He took a deep breath, staring at the bubbling cauldron that smelled mildly of rotting flesh. He took one last deep breath and then pressed his head into the concoction.

His head exploded. Pain shot through every part of him. But he kept his head submerged. His scar felt like it was ripping open. Like something was bursting forth from his head. He was reminded, gruesomely, of Athena springing from Zeus. But, despite all of it, he kept his head in the potion. And eventually, the pain lessened and he felt a part of him, a part that never should have been in him, slip from his skull and into the cauldron.

When he lifted his head from the liquid he felt oddly empty. He sat down next to the bubbling cauldron and caught his breath. The horizon spun around him and it took a moment before he could compose himself.

He turned his wand back to the creature in the cage and caught it with his wand. It fought him, but it was too weak to do more than roll away from the magic and squeal as he lifted it upwards. It took him a moment to steady it and drop it into the cauldron.

Harry collapsed a few feet away and watched it bubble more. He could feel the power welling inside the iron. He stared at it as he pulled himself to his feet. He stepped forward as he felt the magic plateau.

He raised a shield as the cauldron exploded. He felt shards of iron impact against it as smoke filled the air

When the smoke cleared his eyes rested on the figure standing there. She looked younger than he remembered. And thinner. Her muscles seemed weak and it looked like she was struggling to stay on her feet as her legs wobbled uncertainly. He noticed strips of flesh missing from her body, and scars over all of the rest of her. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.

"You stupid, stupid boy," Lord Voldemort said as she staggered toward him. Harry felt magic well up from her, an immense power that tasted almost like victory. And then she collapsed into the snow.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.

Acknowledgment: Rpeh for the beta work.

Chapter 4

Blood stained the snow. Harry watched it spill from her and spread through the crystallized white particles. He stood completely still as he watched it pooled around her before he remembered that he had to act.

Harry reached for her. He leaned down to try to pull her to her feet. She screamed in pain as soon as he touched her. He stared down at his hand on her back. Her skin shifted as he touched her, sliding off of her like the photos he'd seen of bad burn victims. The flesh beneath was raw and bloody. He immediately pulled his hand away and kneeled next to her.

"Just. Kill. Me," she gasped through the pain. She curled into a ball in the snow. Already her pale flesh was turning a dark blue. Harry held his hands over her before reaching for his wand and trying to cast a healing spell on her. He felt the magic flow into her. But there was no visible change in her body.

He tried again, and again, and again. But still, there was no actual change. She whimpered a few more times before she became silent. Harry closed his eyes but felt nothing as he tried to focus on the door. He opened them and saw her shoulders were rising and falling slowly. Each breath she took seemed to take longer than the last.

Harry stood up and looked around. He knew that there was little chance of his healing her. Sure, he knew healing spells, but he didn't know exactly what she needed. And his go-to had failed.

But he hadn't expected her to be in this condition. And he wasn't sure exactly how to transport her. A portkey was the easiest solution. But with how her body seemed to be falling apart he didn't think he should subject her to traveling in that way.

He levitated her out of the snow and put a warming spell on her, hoping that would at least buy her some time before he looked toward his silver watch. He could summon Avery. He knew the man would respond if called. But what good would that serve? He'd just be in the same situation he was in now but with Avery chiding him.

No there was only one thing he could do. He'd have to Apparate her back to better medical care. He thought the hospital would be the best idea. But it was ministry monitored and he would prefer that they weren't aware of what he'd attempted. And there would just be too many questions if Harry Potter showed up with a nearly dead woman.

So he'd have to take her to Hogwarts. He didn't want her to be at the school yet. He'd hoped to let her adjust on her own, away from that part of him. But that didn't seem to be an option. He took a deep breath and reached out toward her floating body. He closed his eyes as his hand wrapped around her wrist. He held it tightly, his fingers sinking into her tissue as he did. Her eyes flashed open and she screamed as he Apparated with her.

She was whimpering when he arrived at the iron gates of Hogwarts. He slipped his hand off her and pressed the top button on his watch as he moved toward the castle, floating Emily before him as he walked.

Avery and Fumiko met him at the main gate. Fumiko gasped loudly and conjured a silken sheet around Emily's body as he entered the castle.

"What did you do?" she whispered harshly. Harry raised his brows and then saw that the Great Hall was filled with students. They hadn't seemed to notice him so he rushed toward the Professor's tower.

"Get Poppy," Harry ordered.

"Harry, what happened?" Avery asked as he and Fumiko chased after him.

"Get. Poppy," Harry ordered again. "My room."

"Harry there's something you need to know," Fumiko said.

"Poppy!" Harry yelled. Fumiko yelped and flushed crimson but turned and ran off toward the infirmary.

"Harry!" Avery scolded.

"She's dying, Alex," Harry said. "And I can't fix her. I'll worry about whatever else happened later."

"You didn't need to yell at her, you know she's sensitive," Avery said.

"I'll apologize later," Harry said, with no intention of doing such a thing. He entered his room a moment later, levitating Emily over the bed and turning his attention back to the door. Moments later Madame Pomfrey and Fumiko came rushing in.

"Heal her," Harry ordered the nurse. She raised a brow at him but then turned toward the floating patient. She slashed her wand and the silk cloth Fumiko conjured vanished. She started the examination quickly, scanning her wand over her legs and then up her body, examining every inch where the flesh seemed to melt off of her, prodding at every open wound.

"What happened to her?" Pomfrey asked.

"I don't know. She should be in better shape than this," Harry said. "The potion should have healed her."

"Vancouver obviously took its toll," Avery said.

"Apparently. But last time," Harry sighed. "Last time she was fine.

"She's malnourished. Her skin is falling off. She can barely breathe," Pomfrey said as her examination continued. "I have never seen injuries like this."

"Crouch and Pettigrew were feeding her before, last time," Avery said.

"What?" Pomfrey asked.

"That can't just be it. It has to be Vancouver," Harry said.

"Is this…?" Pomfrey asked.

"Probably," Avery said. "But she looks like she couldn't even be ninety pounds right now."

"One-oh-three per the diagnostic," Pomfrey responded. Her attention focused squarely on the patient's face.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Harry asked.

"Is this Lord Voldemort?" Pomfrey asked.

"No," Harry lied. "Her name is Emily Price."

"It is her," Pomfrey said. "I've seen this face too many times. She's killed my friends. She'd killed thousands. What in God's name are you doing bringing her here? Thankfully she's dying."

"Heal her," Harry ordered. Pomfrey paused and looked at him, before looking back at Emily. She shook her head.

"No," Pomfrey said.

"You swore an oath," Harry said.

"I did," Pomfrey said. "But I will not be responsible for bringing this terror back into the world."

"I brought her back. I'm responsible. Heal her. Now," Harry ordered.

"No," Pomfrey said. "I refuse. I'm going. This is wrong, Harry. I'm going to get Minerva and-"

"Avery," Harry ordered. Avery stepped between the nurse and the door.

"Let me leave," Pomfrey said, looking rather startled.

"No," Avery responded. Pomfrey drew her wand but Avery simply raised his brows at her. She paused and looked back at Harry. Harry ignored her and moved toward his fire place. He snatched a handful of floo powder from the container there and threw it into the flames.

"St. Mungo's," he said. Moments later a young man's face appeared in the flames.

"St. Mungo's Hospital," he said formally.

"It's Harry Potter. I need Healer Patel. Immediately."

"Right away, sir!" the young man said. His face vanished and Harry tapped his foot as he waited for another face to appear. But when one did it wasn't Priya's.

"Yes, Mister Potter?" Farha Patel said from the fire. She looked exhausted as the flames flickered around her wrinkles.

"Where's Priya?" he asked.

"Priya is in India on vacation. I am covering for her. Now how did you manage to frighten one of our secretaries on a floo call?" Farha asked.

"I have an injured patient here in desperate need of attention. It is apparently beyond Poppy's abilities," Harry said.

"A student?" the elder Healer Patel looked alarmed.

"No," Harry said. "Prospective staff. Can you come through or send someone?"

"I'll come," Farha said. Her face disappeared from the flames and a moment later they roared up and she stepped into his bedroom.

"Thanks for coming," he said. She paused and looked around. Her eyes rested for a moment on Madame Pomfrey. She raised her brows and looked to Harry for a moment. But then her gaze shifted past him and toward the floating patient. Her jaw fell open.

"Oh my God," she said softly.

"Heal her," Harry said. An edge of desperation slipped into his voice as he spoke. Farha Patel regarded the patient for a moment, her expression hardening before she nodded her assent.

"Poppy I will need a hand," Farha said. Avery leaned against the door and Pomfrey shook her head.

"I can't," she said quietly.

"Into whatever house I enter, I will enter to help the sick. I will abstain from all intentional wrong-doing and harm, especially from abusing the bodies of man or woman, bond or free," Farha said.

"I know. But. I can't," Poppy said. "It's. Farha…She's…"

"I will never see in the patient anything but a fellow creature in pain," Farha said.

"I know," Poppy responded again, not moving from her position near the door.

"I'll help," Harry said.

"No," Farha shook her head. "This is out of your league. And I have a feeling that when it's done, we may need you as rested as possible. Poppy will have to help me. As will the Averys."

"Yes ma'am," Fumiko said, drawing her own wand and stepping toward the elder healer. "I don't really know any healing magic though."

"That's alright," Farha said.

"Harry?" Avery asked.

"Go ahead," Harry said. Avery nodded and moved toward his wife, leaving the exit clear. Pomfrey looked toward it and took one step before Farha barked.

"Poppy," she said.

"I can't. I'm so sorry but I can't," Poppy said once more.

"The health and well-being of my patient will be my first consideration," Farha snapped. "You will help me. Now."

"I…I," Poppy started.

"We do not have time for this Ms. Pomfrey. Save your objections for later I'm sure plenty of people will listen to them. For now, you will help me save this life or…" Farha started. Pomfrey froze as the threat sunk in. She took a deep breath and stepped away from the door.

"Yes, Healer Patel," she said, drawing her wand out as well.

"Now what did you find," Farha asked as she stared to cast her own diagnostic spell. Harry leaned against the wall and watched as they worked.

"Her body is functioning normally. Her heartbeat is weak and slowing. She's starved but I doubt we can get any nourishment into her given the condition of her body," Poppy said.

"What did you find in regards to that?" Farha asked.

"I stopped my diagnostic before I explored it too much. If I had to speculate it seems like something is separating her skin from her muscles and her muscles from her bones. She is literally falling apart," Poppy said. Harry watched as a chunk of Emily's calf did exactly that, landing with a wet plop on his bed.

"Yes," Healer Patel said as Fumiko dove toward the waste basket. Pomfrey and Avery both turned rather green. Farha prodded at the mass of flesh on his bed with her wand and frowned.

"What is it?" Pomfrey asked.

"It's like something is missing. Like some sort of essential component just isn't there. Things aren't staying connected like they should, for lack of a better term. I've never seen anything like it," Farha said.

"Can you fix it?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Healer Patel said. "But I will certainly try. Poppy we're going to have to guess and check a bit here. Start with her feet and I'll focus on her hands. Go through every restorative spell you know. I would start with bonding spells rather than direct restorative spells. The flesh is healthy it just…isn't complete."

"Yes Healer," Poppy said. She paused for a moment before turning her wand onto Emily's left foot and doing as instructed.

"Mister Avery I need you to monitor her vitals. If her heartbeat drops let me know immediately. Mrs. Avery if you could attempt to keep the areas where we're working free of blood," Healer Patel said.

"Yes ma'am," Fumiko said. Avery nodded and obeyed. Harry continued to lean against the wall and fight back the urge to do something. He knew Healer Patel was one of the best healers of the last century with a very distinguished record. And he knew she would do everything in her power to save the patient. But he still disliked being idle.

But all he could do was watch them work. And so he watched them work. It was slow going. They cast and cast and cast. With each failure his frown grew. Nothing they did seemed to work. Nothing at all. He saw them grow more and more frustrated, their failures affecting theme very bit as much as him.

It went on for hours. Fumiko looked dead on her feet as she leaned against Avery and tried to continue on her work. Poppy and Farha continued through it all. Harry summoned an elf after four hours with some tea and coffee and snacks. They took a five-minute break and then went back to work.

It was at the six-hour mark that Poppy shrieked.

"What is it?" Healer Patel asked.

"It…worked," Poppy said, poking Emily's foot. Healer Patel rushed over toward her and took Emily's foot in her hand. She rubbed the skin around and laughed as it stayed in one piece.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"A combination of Aceso's bonding and Vejovis's cleansing. It flushed it out and then restored it," Pomfrey said, waving her wand over the foot once more. "And it's reading normal now."

"Her heart is very weak," Avery said.

"Show me how you did it. Mister Avery, watch as well, we may need a third wand," Healer Patel said.

"Yes ma'am," Avery said. He and Healer Patel watched as Pomfrey repeated the spell on Emily's other foot. It took a few attempts but then, Harry watched as the flesh seemed to bond normally to her once more.

"Okay," Farha said after going over numerous diagnostic spells on the freshly healed feet. "Well, let's get to work on the rest of her."

And they continued. It was slow going. They could only do inches of her at a time. Pomfrey and Avery worked up while Healer Patel worked down from her head. Harry noticed that Farha seemed to be able to cover more ground than the other two in less time. Her wand movements were quick and precise and she seemed to struggle way less with it than Avery and Pomfrey.

Fumiko slouched against the bed after a few more minutes. Harry walked over toward her and pulled her back to his desk. He sat her there and poured a cup of tea for her. She sipped it as she slouched into the chair. Harry moved toward the healers after. He tapped Avery on the shoulder and gestured to his wife. The older man nodded and moved away.

He watched Pomfrey cast the spell twice before he joined her. She frowned at him, sweat coating her brow, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. But she didn't refuse his help. And it went faster then.

An hour later, though, Poppy tapped out. She collapsed against a wall in his bedroom and watched as Healer Patel and Harry finished putting Lord Voldemort back together. Once the first step was complete, Farha let out an exhausted sigh. She conjured underwear onto the patient now that her skin wasn't falling off at the slightest touch and started casting more diagnostic spells.

Harry turned his attention to the bits of flesh that had fallen off of her in his room. A meaty smell filled his bedroom as he vanished what had been pieces of her moments earlier. He vanished the blankets and sheets from his bed as well as part of the cleanup process as Healer Patel continued her diagnostics.

"I need a nutritional potion and blood replenishers," she said.

"I have some ready made in the infirmary," Poppy said, starting to rise to her feet.

"I'll get them," Fumiko said as Poppy's legs gave out from exhaustion. Fumiko stepped from the room quickly and Harry went back to work cleaning up the mess.

"I'll take Madame Pomfrey back to her room," Avery said.

"No," Poppy said. "We aren't done."

"We've done all we can do," Healer Patel said. "It's up to her now. Get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" Poppy asked.

"Yes," Healer Patel said.

"Okay," Poppy said as Avery helped her to her feet. They left together. Minutes later Fumiko returned with the potions in question. Healer Patel took them from her and placed them on Harry's bedside table. She transfigured the remains of his bed into a hospital bed and lowered the floating Emily onto it.

Harry watched as she conjured some small tubes and a needle. She mixed the potions carefully and stuck the tube into the contents before jamming the needle into Emily's arm. Harry watched the grey liquid flow through the tube and into Emily. He thought it looked like color started to come back to her skin at that moment. But he figured that was simply his mind playing tricks on him.

Healer Patel went back to examining her then. Harry stood over his bed and looked down at her. She didn't look like he remembered. Her features were sunken. There were still some scars on her body, long slender strips of pink flesh, that Healer Patel was attempting to fix. Her hair seemed lank and she seemed too small and too weak. Harry frowned to himself at the thought. What if she wasn't enough? He'd have to cross that bridge if it came.

He watched Healer Patel work in silence then. After a few moments the healer seemed happy with her work and tucked her wand into her robes.

"There," she said. "That's all we can do for now."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"It's my job," Healer Patel said. She stretched her arms out and seemed to let the tension melt out of her as she relaxed. Harry continued to examine Emily's body. His eyes traced over her stomach as Healer Patel started to conjure a hospital gown around her.

A small star-shaped wound caught his attention. It looked like a puncture wound of some type. Harry frowned at it before looking at healer Patel.

"Why didn't you heal that one?" he asked, gesturing to it. Farah raised her brows at him.

"She didn't want me to heal that half a century ago, I highly doubt she'd want me to now," she said.

"You knew," Harry said.

"I'm not an idiot, Mister Potter. Of course I knew," Healer Patel scoffed.

"Then why did you help me?" he asked.

"I swore an oath," Healer Patel shrugged.

"That isn't it," Harry said.

"I wasn't helping you, Mister Potter," Healer Patel said.

"Then why?" he asked.

"I owed it to her," Farha said.

"I don't think you could owe her anything," Harry said. "You know what she did."

"As do you. And yet here you are, standing almost protectively over her. As if she deserves that from you of all people," Farha said.

"That's complicated," Harry said.

"Life is complicated," Farha agreed.

"So, what could you owe her?" Harry asked. Farha shook her head.

"What do you even know about her?" she asked.

"Everything," he said.

"Really?" Farha raised her brows at him.

"Yes," Harry said. "I learned most of it from her."

"Well, then you know what happened to her years ago," Farha said.

"The baby?" he asked. Farha's brows raised once more as if she was utterly surprised he managed to guess right.

"She told you about that?" she asked.

"In a way," Harry said. "I'm not sure what you think you could have done about that."

"Oh, Harry. That's easy. I could have saved Martin and Amelia," Farha said.

"I don't think there's much you could have done there," Harry said.

"We weren't paying close enough attention. You know we monitor the Muggle hospitals in the event of emergency. And she'd either never properly changed her name or it wasn't recorded right or something. Whatever the reason, whoever's fault it was, Emily Price didn't trigger our alarms right away," Farha said. She turned her gaze down toward Emily on the bed and brushed a strand of lank brown hair away from her eyes.

"What are you saying?" Harry asked.

"It wasn't until a few minutes later when one of the on-duty monitors floo'd me asking if I had a patient named Price. It had stuck out in his head. He almost hadn't bothered to contact me. By the time I got to the muggle hospital those fools had already killed Martin and butchered Emily in a vain attempt to save Amelia. I could have fixed it all in minutes. They were all still alive when they got there. But I was too slow. And they were dead when I arrived," Farha said.

"She didn't blame you, you know," Harry said.

"Of course she didn't. The thought never occurred to her that someone should have been watching out for her. That someone would have protected her. When the system failed her, it wasn't a failure she could even comprehend," Farha said.

"Well, now you're even," Harry said.

"Perhaps," Farha said. "Now what are you hoping to accomplish with this gambit?"

"I can't beat Grindelwald alone," Harry said.

"Gods. You are too much like her. You should never even try to beat Grindelwald alone. What is it with you two? You have support, you have friends. Alone shouldn't be an option. Alone is stupid," Farha scolded.

"I get the feeling you didn't really have that hard of a time with figuring out who I reminded you of," Harry responded.

"No. But I wasn't going to tell Priya her boyfriend reminded me of You-Know-Who," Farha said.

"We're not," Harry said.

"I know," Farha responded. "Or you'd be in India being chided about when you were going to commit to her."

"You sound happy about that," Harry said.

"You and Priya would not have worked," Farha said. "That had rocky relationship and then a baby to try to save it before an eventual divorce written all over it."

"Glad you think so highly of me," Harry said.

"I'm old, Harry. Neither of you could provide what the other is looking for," Farha said. She took a moment to examine the potion that was slowly being pumped into Emily's arm. She flicked the tube once.

"Well I honestly hadn't thought about it. I'm curious to know just what you think I'm looking for, though," Harry said.

"Nothing that Priya Patel or Hermione Granger are going to provide you," Farha said. "And I hope nothing that you think is going to magically happen now. But I won't assume you're that dumb."

"Ouch," Harry said.

"Sorry, I get annoyed easily when I'm exhausted," Farha responded.

"Are you going to stay?" Harry asked.

"In your room with her? No. But I will take a guest room at the castle. It'll be easier incase there's a complication or for when I check on her in the morning," Farha said.

"I'll have an elf prepare one," Harry said aloud, knowing full well that was all he had to do to make one of the on-duty elves prepare a room.

"Thank you," she said. "As is there is nothing more we can do for Mrs. Price this evening. I suggest you either get some sleep or catch up on what you missed in the last week."

"Right Avery wanted to show me something before he realized just what was going on. Can you just tell me and be done with it?" Harry asked.

"Sure. Those Iranians that claimed responsibility for the attack in France? They're all dead," Farha said.

"What? How?" Harry asked.

"The room is ready!" An elf squeaked as it popped into the room.

"Go find a copy of the paper and figure that out yourself," Farha Patel said as she and the elf left his room.

Harry frowned at that but did decide to simply summon another elf with the evening paper and some dinner. He conjured a couch and a table before sitting down and eating. He didn't turn his attention to the paper until he was done eating.

It only took him a few moments to piece together exactly what they were talking about. The terrorist group in Iran that had taken responsibility for the attack in France had been entirely wiped out.

There was all sorts of speculation as to just what had happened to them. At first there was nothing but guesswork. But, as the article summarizing the events told Harry, things were finally starting to make sense.

A few days earlier there was a rash of unexplained deaths in a small village in Iran. The Muggles assumed it was some type of airborne agent. The people that died had all been connected with the terrorist group. But when they returned to their homes it spread. A few thousand people dead in just a few days.

Harry had to dig through the paper to find the symptoms. The Muggles assumed some type of gas. But no one had been able to determine just what kind of gas would cause the heart to explode out through the ribs.

At least that's how the villagers were found. And then how the remaining terrorists were located a few miles away in a cave complex. Members of the International Confederation of Wizards went to the scene immediately because the nature of the deaths seemed too unusual.

But they were shocked by what they discovered. There wasn't any trace of magic in the air. There seemed to be nothing magical at all about the deaths. The wizards stayed to assist the investigation. But it only lasted a day or two.

They found a few small grey canisters littered in with the bodies. Magical identifying on them managed to trace their origins easily enough. It was some type of American chemical agent.

There were also traces that the investigators and Muggle aide workers were not the first people into the area. There were traces of American, Israeli and French military presence. It seemed all too clear that this was some type of response to the attack in France. At the very least the group that had claimed responsibility was gone.

The ICW officials seemed content with that explanation. They gathered up some of the canisters and sent those back for testing to see if they could replicate the weapon and then went on their way.

Harry frowned at the summary of the article. It made sense, sure. But it didn't feel right to Harry. Still, it was making waves through the Muggle governments. The United Nations was up in arms about three member nations simply eliminating a population. And doing so with some type of weapon that the world hadn't seen. And that certainly was against their rules.

All the while the French and the Israelis claimed they hadn't been responsible. As of that evening, the Americans hadn't issued a statement. Harry couldn't help but frown at the article. There seemed to be more missing than there should have been given the dates on it. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

There was no commentary from American or Israeli magical government officials. And the few comments from the French indicated that they honestly didn't believe that their military was involved. But that just led to more debate in the ICW.

And then two of the investigators still in Middle East, fully trained wizards both with Auror experience, both succumbed to the same gas in an area that appeared to be free of contamination. Eight Muggle aid workers joined them.

From then the debate became quite clear. The ICW decided it had to pull its resources out of the Middle East and investigate the biological weapon. The debate switched to whether or not Muggles should even be allowed to have such weaponry. Preventing them from using the nuclear armaments had been difficult enough since the last World War.

And now they had other weapons? Weapons that wizards weren't fully aware of? Weapons that they weren't sure how to counter? By all reports the investigators had taken every precaution they knew against the old poison gasses and biological agents. And still, they were dead. And all of this just weeks after an unidentified weapon had taken out an entire magical village.

The debate in the ICW turned quickly to finding a way to figure out just what weaponry these muggles had and trying to prevent them from using something again. And from there it quickly turned to making sure they couldn't even produce more weaponry like it.

The next few pages of the paper were devoted to transcripts from the debates and different writers giving pros and cons of intervening with the Muggles. Harry balled up the paper when he got to that point and tossed it into the fire. It shocked him that others couldn't see it. But he didn't feel like thinking about that much longer. Before he did, he'd check with Avery to see if they'd come to the same conclusion. But from there he wasn't entirely positive how he wanted to act.

He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. Hopefully this next one would be able to occur without Hermione screaming at him to not go and do something stupid. Which, as much as he loathed to admit it, was probably the correct play.

He kicked his feet out on the couch and closed his eyes. He figured his best option at this point was to simply think and let sleep take him. Perhaps he'd come up with something brilliant, or perhaps he'd just clear his head and hope for better in the morning.

Pain in his healed arm woke him. At first, he thought the poison must have been back. He sat up in a rush and turned his attention to his shoulder. He pulled his shirt over his head and rushed to the mirror to examine it.

His arm looked perfectly normal. He rolled his shoulder, frowning at the ache as he did, before prodding it gently. He shook his head, chuckling at his own stupidity. It shouldn't have shocked him, he thought, that sleeping on a couch he conjured without putting much thought into comfort would have some negative effects. He shook his arm out once more, stretching his neck as he did, and figured the pain would go away in moments.

He looked back into the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, frowning at it. He sighed and thought a cup of coffee would be nice. He summoned an elf to get him one. Judging from the tired expression on the creature's face and the fact that it was still dark out, he figured it was either still too late or far too early for coffee. He drank it anyway.

Harry turned his attention back to the mirror and stared in it once more. This time, though, a pair of exhausted looking dark eyes stared back at him. He met them in the glass for a few moments.

In his mind, what he'd say had been easy. The words would come to him without question. The conversation would come, the topic would be settled, and that would be entirely that. But that wasn't happening. Instead it was all he could do to just keep his eyes on the pair in the mirror. For the first time in a very long time he had no idea what to say.

It would have been so much better, he thought, if she'd just say something. But she didn't speak. She just kept her eyes on his in the mirror. He couldn't keep staring at them. But he couldn't look away either. He distracted himself with a sip of coffee before he went back to staring. Her expression was entirely unreadable.

He closed his eyes and focused on the door. Part of him told him that was stupid. That the door should be gone. But it wasn't. There was a sliver of it left there in his head. But, in that moment, it was sealed tightly against him. Eventually, though, he won the battle of silence.

"Get this thing out of my arm," Emily Price nee Riddle ordered. Her voice was soft and sounded weak but still managed to send a pang through his chest.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Harry said. He expected her to just rip the tube out. But she didn't move. He wondered if she even could. He hadn't asked Healer Patel just what was in the potion. He'd assumed it medicinal. Could it have been a sedative? That wouldn't have been the dumbest thing in the world.

"Get this thing out of my arm, please?" she asked again. Harry laughed aloud and shook his head.

"Promise not to curse me?" he joked. She raised her brows at him, but only slightly. Even that minimal of an effort seemed exhausting to her.

"I don't even have a wand," she said.

"And I'm supposed to believe that's stopping you?" Harry asked.

"Right now it is," she said.

"That's not promising not to curse me," Harry said.

"I once said I wouldn't bring harm to you while you were in my presence," she responded.

"And then told me later that only applied to picnics in Highbury Fields," Harry responded.

"Then take me to Highbury Fields and get this damn thing out of my arm," Emily retorted. Harry stepped toward her and pulled the tube from her arm. She winced as he did. He turned his attention to the potion. There wasn't much left in the cup on the bedside table. He tossed the tube next to it and reached down toward her arm and brushed the small wound with his thumb to heal it.

"There," he said.

"Thank you," she responded. "Now sit me up."

"Can you not move?" he asked.

"Not enough," she responded.

"Fine," he said. He stepped toward the bed and reached down until he could prop her up against the headboard. The blankets pooled around her waist. The hospital gown that Healer Patel put her in hug off one shoulder. He adjusted it back into place and then stepped from her.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Hogwarts," he responded. "More specifically the Head's chambers. I'm sort of the new Headmaster."

"Did Albus die or retire?" she asked.

"Die," Harry responded.

"Pity," Emily said as if she didn't think it was a pity at all.

"He never really recovered from…" Harry started. He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. She knew he was referring to when they'd dueled in the Ministry of Magic all those years ago.

"He wasn't supposed to," she said.

"I see," Harry responded purely because it was his turn to talk.

"How long since then?" she asked.

"A decade," he responded.

"Tough old bastard," she said as a soft knocking emanated from the door.

"I guess," he said before turning toward the door. "It's open."

"Hey Harry," Avery said as he walked in. He was dressed in his sleepwear and looked like he'd been failing at sleeping. "Can't sleep either?"

"I got a nap in," Harry said.

"Hello," Emily said. Avery froze and stiffened. He took a deep breath and turned to face the bed. His eyes were wide with fear as they settled onto her. But his mannerism seemed more like he was worried he'd disappointed her than anything else. Her expression was still completely blank.

"My Lord!" he gasped. "I did not realize you were awake. Is there anyth—" he started. But she silenced him with a shake of her head. Harry marveled at how quickly he responded. He wondered just what it took to really build that devotion.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not anyone's Lord," she said quietly. "My name is Emily."

"Emily," Avery said as if testing the word on his tongue.

"It's good to see you, Alexander," she said.

"I..uhm," Avery stumbled with his words. Emily gave him a pained smile and nodded.

"And less so to see me, I suspect," she said.

"No. No. Of course not. It's…It's…" Avery said.

"Like the Devil came back for seconds," Emily scoffed.

"Thirds," Harry shrugged.

"Quiet. The adults are talking," Emily scolded.

"Hey now," Harry frowned.

"In his defense he's probably older than you right now," Avery said.

"Do you really want to debate that with me?" Emily asked.

"No, my Lord," Avery said.

"Emily," Emily corrected.

"No, Emily," Avery amended.

"I didn't think so," Emily responded. "So how have you been, Alexander? I notice you're wearing your wedding ring again." Avery looked toward his hand as she spoke.

"I got remarried," he said.

"Congratulations," Emily beamed, her solitary dimple reappearing for the first time in a decade. "Who's the nice young lady?"

"Her name is Fumiko. We met a few years ago in Japan and really connected. I never really thought I'd meet someone who made me feel like Celia had…but, well," Avery let his voice trail off as he spoke.

"I'm happy for you," Emily said, the smile not faltering on her face. "Although I do have to wonder just what took you to Japan."

"We were fixing Nagasaki," Harry said. Emily's eyes narrowed and her gaze turned to him, the smile evaporating in an instant. Harry suddenly felt incredibly small under her gaze. And like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.

"It's a long story," Avery said.

"I'd like to hear it," Emily said.

"I'm not the one to tell it," Avery said.

"Ah," Emily responded. She did not look at Harry. "Has he grown up?"

"In some ways," Avery said.

"Hey," Harry said.

"But not in all," Emily said.

"No. Not in all," Avery said.

"Tell me," Emily said.

"He's still too brash. He'd rather solve problems by breaking through them than any other means. And he still hasn't learned to ask for help, or to properly value those who stand with him," Avery said.

"Hey," Harry said again.

"You know it's true. Your solution, ten times out of ten, is to rush head on into the problem and rely on power to solve it," Avery said.

"Wonder where I learned that from," Harry scoffed.

"Who's decision was I?" Emily asked.

"His," Avery said.

"Fantastic," Emily said, shaking her head as she spoke.

"Last time you had that tone you cursed a great many people," Avery said. "Am I to believe that you aren't entirely pleased with his decision."

"That will depend on why the decision came about," Emily said.

"Grindelwald is back," Harry said.

"Well that's a better answer than I expected," Emily said.

"What did you expect?" Avery asked.

"Something that appeared less altruistic," Emily said.

"I'm not entirely sure it is," Avery responded.

"Ah," Emily said.

"We need your help," Harry said, interrupting their conversation.

"So, he has learned to ask for help," Emily said.

"So far only from you. And only after getting his ass kicked," Avery said.

"By Grindelwald?" Emily asked.

"I didn't think I needed to ask for your help," Harry scoffed at Avery.

"Yes, by Grindelwald. He nearly died," Avery said.

"Harry got absolutely destroyed by Grindelwald," Emily said again.

"Yes," Avery said. And Emily burst out laughing. It was a high and sweet laugh that was almost infectious. Avery chuckled. Harry just crossed his arms and glared.

"Are you done?" Harry asked after a couple of moments.

"Almost," Emily chuckled. "Just recalling someone here insulting me for losing in to Grindelwald."

"You fought Grindelwald?" Avery asked.

"Yes," Emily said. "Shortly before Dumbledore did. I prevented him from escaping his citadel base before Dumbledore showed up and bested him."

"Wow," Avery looked impressed.

"Anyway," Harry said, doing everything in his power to stifle his annoyance. "I can't beat Grindelwald by myself-"

"Duh," Emily interrupted.

"—So. I brought you back to help me fight him," Harry continued.

"For what it's worth I advised him against it," Avery said.

"I think I see what you mean," Emily said.

"Together we can beat him," Harry said.

"Maybe," Emily shrugged. "But I don't even have a wand. And I'm a wanted terrorist and murderer that everyone thinks is dead."

"I'm sure we can work around that," Harry said.

"If we wanted to," Emily responded.

"And you're not entirely correct," Harry said. He waved his hand toward his desk and a long, slender box flew from it and floated over toward him. He levitated it toward Emily.

"What is this?" she asked, eyeing it and not opening the box.

"Well you're old one was immediately destroyed by the ministry. I had this one made a few months ago," Harry said. Emily gazed at him for a moment and then opened the box.

"What is it?" she asked as she stared at the wand.

"Willow and phoenix feather," Harry said. "Ollivander said it felt like a promise."

"A promise of what?" Emily asked.

"He didn't say," Harry said.

"That's your move? Bring me back, bribe me with a wand, and hope I help you?" Emily said. "You had to know that wouldn't work."

"No. I was going to ask something of you," Harry said.

"Oh? And just what would that be?" Emily laughed.

"I'm going to ask you to help me stop Grindelwald. Because the world will be a much better place with him gone. And you know that," Harry said. Emily stiffened in the bed as he spoke. Her eyes narrowed and focused on him.

"You think you're clever, don't you," she said quietly.

"I have my moments," Harry said with an air of triumph.

"When did you figure out what the ring did?" she asked.

"A few years ago," Harry said.

"What ring?" Avery asked.

"And you think that's all it will take? Reminding me of a promise made half a century ago. Knowing full well that my hatred for Grindelwald and what he did to me would immediately make me think that you were right?" Emily said.

"You know I'm right," Harry said, smiling.

"You forget that Grindelwald believes in the superiority of magic. The same cause I championed for many years," Emily said. "There's an equal chance that I believe the world would be a better place if he's left to his devices than if I interfere in any way. Perhaps he's the leader I couldn't be."

"But you hate him," Harry said.

"I hated him when I was a teenager. You never bothered to compare platforms, did you?" Emily spat.

"You'd rather side with him?" Harry asked. "You'd rather follow him?"

"I don't follow anyone," Emily said.

"I need your help," Harry said.

"I already gave you everything you could possibly need. Are you telling me you've squandered that already?" Emily asked.

"I couldn't beat him alone," Harry said.

"And you shouldn't have tried to," Emily said.

"I told you," Avery said.

"Yes, you should have listened to Alexander," Emily said again.

"The two of us wouldn't be enough to stop him," Harry said.

"Bring three people then," Emily said.

"That's the plan," Harry said.

"Pass," Emily said.

"Don't be like that," Harry frowned.

"Don't be like that?" Emily laughed. "Don't be like that? You have to be kidding me, you imbecilic moron. You rush off to do something you can't possibly understand without ever thinking of the consequences. You haven't grown up at all."

"What?" Harry blinked in surprise.

"What did you think I would say?" Emily laughed. "What did you think would happen? I'd smile and agree to whatever you wanted? Were you not listening when I told you I was done? Did you not realize I made you the hero and that it was time to move on?"

"You what?" Avery asked.

"And then another decade of abject misery with some minor torture worked in. Finally, finally I can just let the icy oblivion win and then you show up and drag me back into even more pain," Emily said.

"I didn't know you would-" Harry started.

"Of course you didn't," Emily scoffed. "You didn't bother to think about anything that could have happened."

"I thought you'd be grateful," Harry said. Emily snorted.

"Then you weren't paying attention," she said.

"Please," Harry said.

"And then you have the sheer audacity to try to bind me with magic you don't understand," Emily said.

"I understand it just fine," Harry said.

"No. You don't. As Alex said you found one quick solution and assumed it correct and all powerful," Emily said. "You never even bothered to think of how I would react to being used."

"I'm not using you," Harry said.

"Oh no please help me kill some old wizard so the world is a better place. You must better the world. Make everything better," Emily mimed. Harry pressed his jaw tightly together and stared at her.

"You know I'm right," he said curtly.

"No, Harry. That's just it. I know you're wrong," Emily said.

"You can't actually mean," Harry started.

"Of course not. You just are assuming it is a you versus him scenario. That one of your ideologies is better. That what the two of you does matters. When all the two of you will do is cause death. And there is no way that makes the world better," Emily said.

"You expect me to just do nothing?" Harry asked.

"I don't have an opinion on what you should do. I lost so that I would not have to be involved in these decisions. But before you go crying to me I would have thought you would have actually considered other options and the ramifications of your actions. But thinking does not appear to be one of your strongest suits," Emily scoffed.

"I remember you being less bitchy," Harry said.

"Amazing how a lady can act differently when she's trying to get something," Emily rolled her eyes.

"I don't believe you," Harry said.

"That's fine. The only thing you have to believe is that I will not help you," Emily said.

"Fine," Harry said. He felt his muscles tense. His entire body seemed to be on edge. But he knew it wasn't an argument he could win at that point.

"Good. I'm glad we came to an understanding," Emily said.

"There is one more thing I would like your help with, though," Harry said.

"Of course there is," Emily scoffed. "And just what insane request is that now."

"Well I do run this school as of right now. And at the end of the year there's going to be an open position. One that I believe you've had interest in in the past. If that's something you're still interested in I would think it would make for a lasting situation that could provide great benefit to all those involved," Harry said.

"You're kidding me," Emily laughed. "And now you're trying to bribe me?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm trying to come up with a solution to a rather lasting problem this institution has. And I feel like you could be that solution. And that you'd be able to provide great educational benefit for students."

"You'd never get me approved," Emily said.

"Only if you were dumb enough to advertise who you were," Harry said. "I would think a professor Phoebe Mitchell wouldn't draw any attention."

"I see," Emily said.

"Regardless, I don't need to know until July or so. You have plenty of time to mull it over. Now if you'll excuse me I think I better fetch healer Patel. I'm sure she'll want to see how her patient is doing," Harry said. He turned toward the door.

"Farha?" Emily muttered quietly. Harry didn't respond as he left to fetch the healer.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.

Acknowledgment: Rpeh for the beta work.

Chapter 5

Harry wasn't surprised to find Farha Patel was already awake. She was eating breakfast in her room while perusing the morning paper. Harry informed her that Emily was awake and was in his room with Avery. She just nodded and waved a hand at him, dismissing him from her company.

While it seemed mildly curt, he was too tired to care so he simply continued on his way. He didn't want to go back to his room, not yet. He needed time to think about what just happened. About how different she seemed. He remembered her being brighter and not quite as dour and tired.

He could remember her scoffing at him, her and Dumbledore arguing. Her saying it had all been a ruse. But he never actually believed that. It hadn't felt like a ruse. There were points where he could just tell. You couldn't fake a smile like that. You couldn't fake the amusement that had lit up her face in certain moments.

Yet none of that had been present. Well, at least not when she'd spoken to him. No, her face had seemed happy enough when she and Avery talked, sure. But that had vanished immediately upon seeing him. Harry frowned at how annoyed that made him as he paced through the castle halls.

He wanted to sleep. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. So instead he started to walk toward the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling above him was still dark when he entered the long hall. But the first vestiges of the sunrise contrasted with the droplets of rain that peppered the surface.

Harry didn't bother with the staff table. Instead he walked about halfway down the length between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables before sliding into a spot at the Ravenclaw table.

He tapped his fingers impatiently on the wood and moments later a glass of ice water and plate of eggs, sausage and toast appeared before him. He ate methodically, not really focusing very much on the food as his mind wandered.

He was halfway through the meal when the doors to the hall opened. A quick glance at his watch showed it was still too early in the morning for the students to be emerging. He turned his head and frowned as the Head of the Department of Magical Education stepped toward him.

Despite the early hour there wasn't a hair out of place on Hermione Granger. She was dressed formally, her hair in a bun. She walked right toward him and placed the case she was carrying on the table before sitting next to him on the bench.

"How did you know I was back?" Harry asked. Hermione raised her brows at him.

"Are you trying to avoid your review again?" she asked.

"Of course not. I just figured you'd show up after the sun came up," Harry said.

"By that point you'd be gone again," Hermione said.

"No. Too damn tired. I'll was planning on sleeping after I ate," Harry said.

"Sure you were," Hermione gave him a skeptical look.

"You never answered my question. How did you know I was back?" Harry asked, half wondering if she'd come up with some arrangement with Avery. No, Fumiko was more likely. She was more concerned with him finding amiable female companionship. Although he didn't get the impression that Fumiko liked Hermione all that much.

"Dobby is a good elf," she squeaked as a similar plate of food appeared next to her case. She prodded at one of the sausages with a fork for a moment before turning her gaze to Harry.

"The review, then?" Harry asked, figuring there was no way she was going to settle for not getting that done.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Should we start with the easy bit or the hard bit?"

"I do like getting hard things handled first," Harry said.

"You are still terrible," Hermione commented.

"I've been told," Harry said.

"I can imagine. Now will you tell me why, when I was jerked awake at an absurdly early hour by your elf," Hermine started.

"He's not mine," Harry said.

"By an elf in your employ," Hermione amended.

"Fine," Harry said.

"I was greeted with a letter of resignation from Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said.

"Really?" Harry asked unable to hide the surprise in his tone.

"Really," Hermione confirmed. "Any idea why?"

"I'm sure it says in the letter." Harry shrugged.

"Amazingly it does not," Hermione said. "It simply says that she wishes to move on from her current position and plans on going St. Mungo's to work as a healer rather than working with students. She'll stay on for a couple of weeks to help get her replacement up to speed."

"Nice of her," Harry said.

"So, what did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"I am having a very difficult time believing that," Hermione said. "Two years ago Pomfrey told me she was completely fine with spending the rest of her working life at Hogwarts taking care of students. And now I received a letter of resignation in the wee hours of a Sunday morning."

"People change," Harry said.

"I have a hard time believing you don't know what this is about. Did you do something stupid like offer that Priya the job?" Hermione asked, making Priya sound like a curse.

"No," Harry said. "She wouldn't take it anyway. Pay isn't good enough. Could just be that she wants to bank some money and retire earlier you know."

"I'm sure it could be. And that it isn't," Hermione said.

"Well, regardless, I guess I'll be interviewing for a new nurse then," Harry said.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Well if mine is quitting," Harry said before taking another forkful of food.

"And here I assumed you'd have a replacement all lined up," Hermione said. "Given that Miss Patel once worked for you."

"Again, doesn't pay enough," Harry said, trying to hide his annoyance that she hadn't believed him the first time. "And she just took a job making probably ten times the amount of money I could reasonably offer her. She has far too expensive tastes for me to talk her into ever working for me again."

"So how did you pull it off in Japan?" Hermione asked. Harry eyed her for a moment.

"Carefully," he said, smiling at the memory.

"Why won't you talk to me about it?" Hermione asked as Harry turned his attention back to his plate of food.

"I did talk to you about it. When we were in Japan," Harry said.

"That was barely pillow talk," Hermione scoffed. "And it hardly counts."

"Are we here to discuss Japan or are we here to do my completely irrelevant review," Harry said.

"It's not irrelevant," Hermione frowned. "And why can't it be both?"

"Because I'm too damn tired. Maybe after a nap we could get to the other one. So pick your poison."

"Well we should get the review done first and leave the afternoon open," Hermione said.

"Afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Well it is a Sunday and I have no plans so if you're offering to talk about Japan after your review," Hermione said.

"Didn't you just imply that was pillow talk?" Harry asked.

"If you play your cards right," Hermione said without the slightest trace of a blush.

"Are you bribing me to make the review go easier?" Harry asked.

"Is it working?" Hermione countered.

"I guess we'll know after the review," Harry said, spearing another forkful of eggs and looking at Hermione expectantly.

"Well then," Hermione said. "Since I assume you're not going to magically know why Pomfrey quit I suppose we can move onto the next items on the agenda."

"Well what would that be?" Harry asked. Hermione dug through her bag and took out a quill and parchment.

"Have you met any challenges you felt you were unable to handle adequately in your first month?" Hermione asked.

"Is this going to be just a series of questions that drive me batty?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione countered.

"No. I have not encountered any challenges where I felt inadequate," Harry said.

"Great. Professor McGonagall speaks quite highly of you so far. She says you've met every challenge so far," Hermione said.

"Can she do the rest of the review for me then?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said. "Now is there anything that you feel the Ministry would be able to help you with. And don't say fewer reviews. If you appease me enough today I'll settle for them every semester."

"Apparently I need a new nurse," Harry sighed. "I'm more than willing to, given the busy nature of the school year, let the ministry vet the first few candidates if they're willing."

"I would be more than willing to arrange that. After I've spoken with Pomfrey I'll start the preliminary process," Hermione said.

"Great," Harry said. But his mind wandered then. Not enough that he couldn't provide passable answers to Hermione's questions. His thoughts wandered to Japan. His mind finding amusement in that everything had been quite the opposite.

When he'd started his school, with every intention of eventually giving it up to the locals, it had been a much less organized effort. It had started with a handful of students and even fewer Professors who were in reality nothing more than volunteers.

They'd all looked to him to make every decision. They'd all deferred to his judgement. They'd all treated him like some sort of star. For no other reason this his name. No, that wasn't true. They looked to him for a reason other than his name. They'd looked to him because of the gift he'd granted them. Because they knew, intrinsically, just what that gift cost. And because they respected him for that. But through it all, they'd expected all of his decisions to be correct.

They weren't, obviously. But they'd managed to work around all of that. The first year was rocky. Still, when it ended, everyone involved had learned something and they'd convinced more students to join their small school, as magic returned to Nagasaki.

At first it was mixed. Some people came because they truly wanted to be taught by Harry Potter and his strange coterie of English wizards. Some were merely denied by the premier magical schools in the area, for reasons of room or talent level. Harry had no problem letting them come study with him.

Some of the locals frowned upon the new institution's liberal acceptance rates. But he saw no reason in refusing anyone who wanted to learn. Slowly and slowly they gathered more renown, more students, more staff and more everything.

And slowly and slowly Harry ceded power. It seemed only proper. He wasn't trying to build an English school in Japan. He'd been trying to give them their magic back. To let them return to what they'd been. And act of penance, he supposed. Although he wasn't ever quite sure just what he was absolving himself of.

Still, in Nagasaki, he'd started with all of the power, and all of the control. He'd go into meetings where the entire crowd gathered was waiting his every word of garbled Japanese. They'd revered him.

And he'd given it all back. Because it had been the correct thing to do. Year by year he gave away bits of his power, bits of his control, bits of his renown. Until he was nothing more than a highly thought of substitute here or there. Finally, he'd known it was time to return to England. To let them go, as it were. They no longer needed him.

So in Japan he'd started with all of the control. And relinquished it step by step until he'd made himself irrelevant. And while back in England it was just the opposite. He'd started with thousands of eyes locked onto him. And he had to fight for everything. To the point of the Head of the Department of Magical Education essentially lecturing him during a review.

He pushed the thoughts from his head as he gave another inane answer to Hermione. Deep down he knew he couldn't fault her. He knew that she was simply trying her best. That was all she was capable of. Putting all of her effort into exactly what she was supposed to do. She took it all so much more seriously than he did. And that probably said something negative about him and not her.

That knowledge didn't make it any easier to answer the questions though. Or lessen his annoyance that he was still awake after not sleeping nearly enough while in the Arctic. He stifled a yawn as he answered another question.

Then he heard the doors to the Great Hall open as Hermione asked a follow up. A glance to the slowly brightening ceiling made him think it probably wasn't a student entering, but Hermione required more of his attention than any new intrusion.

He answered her carefully, sensing that she was probing him more closely now. Looking for something that he didn't want to give her until he knew exactly what she expected of him.

His eyes shifted as he finished answering the question. Another person approached their table. She leaned across it and slid his plate toward the bench across from him and sat down. She started on the remains of his eggs before he could protest.

Harry's eyes focused on her. Unlike Hermione she was as far from buttoned up. She wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of his athletic shorts. The shirt was a pale blue one with the logo of a Canadian quidditch team on it. It was too big for her, falling off of one of her shoulders and he wondered why she hadn't even bothered to shrink it. She'd adjusted the shorts to fit.

She'd pulled her hair back into a loose pony tail. But even that was messy and haphazard, looking almost like she'd never done it before. A few strands of it fell down across her face as she plucked at a breakfast sausage.

"Should you…uhm…be out of bed?" Harry asked. Emily's tired eyes lifted slowly to lock onto him.

"No," she said, focusing her attention back onto the first real food she'd seen in a decade. Harry saw Hermione shift. He turned his attention back to her and watched her eyes narrow as they focused on Emily. And then shifted back to him. And then back to Emily. And then back to him.

She reached for her case on the table and raised it up into the air before bringing it down directly on Harry's shoulder. Once, twice, three times. Emily looked up from her food, her eyes narrowing at each impact.

"You stupid, stupid, idiot, stupid!" Hermione yelled.

"Ow!" Harry flinched away from the impact. He shifted away from Hermione, out of range of her onslaught. Once he was safe, Emily went back to eating his food.

"What were you thinking?" Hermione shrieked, fumbling for her wand.

"That we can't possibly do this alone," Harry said.

"And this was your solution?" Hermione yelled.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Harry she's a psychopath!" Hermione said.

"She's a powerful witch," Harry said.

"Who wants to kill you!" Hermione countered.

"If she wanted me dead I'd be dead," Harry said. "You can stop pointing your wand at her. It wouldn't work anyway."

"I do not feel safe with that," Hermione said.

"She's not going to do anything to you. And I'd stop her if she tried," Harry said.

"You'd try," Emily muttered.

"What was that?" Harry snapped.

"More food please," Emily said, almost cheerily. Harry peered at his plate and realized it was empty.

"Just have the elves replenish it," Harry said.

"The elves only serve students and staff," Hermione and Emily said in unison. Harry peered between them. Emily looked down at the plate. Hermione scoffed to herself.

"You should really read _Hogwarts, A History,_ " Emily said. Hermione glared at her.

"Fine," Harry said and closed his eyes for a moment. Another plate of eggs and sausage appeared. He slid it across the table to Emily.

"Thank you," she said meekly.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Bloody Mary?" Emily asked.

"What?" Harry blinked, thinking it was far too early for that.

"Muggle drink. Vodka, tomato juice, Worchester-" Emily started.

"I know what it is," Harry said. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"No," Emily said. Harry sighed and took a deep breath but the drink appeared a moment later. Emily stopped eating long enough to gulp down half of it almost instantly.

"Harry do you even realize what you've done?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I do," Harry said.

"He doesn't," Emily said.

"You're not helping," Harry said.

"I'm not trying to," Emily said. "Another drink please? With more olives this time."

"You finished the first one already?" Harry asked. When Emily just glared at him he figured it was best to just get her another drink. He thought of bleu cheese stuffed olives though, out of spite. She glared at them but didn't comment.

"Harry, I can't have Lord Voldemort in my school," Hermione said.

"Technically it's my school," Harry said.

"My name is Emily," Emily said with her mouth full of eggs.

"I know your name, Mrs. Price," Hermione scoffed. "And my previous statement still stands."

"Nice to meet you," Emily said.

"We are not doing this!" Hermione said. "Seriously Harry. What the hell were you thinking? It's obvious why Pomfrey resigned. How do you expect Flitwick, Sprout, or McGonagall are going to take this?"

"Poorly," Harry said. "But I'll explain it to them."

"Because that will work. It's not like they'll just assume Avery seduced you-"

"Gross."

"I'd watch."

"-and convinced you to bring back his old master! How did you…wait…what are you two even," Hermione threw her hands up in annoyance as she spoke.

"I'll just tell them the truth. I can make Dumbledore's portrait confirm it too," Harry said.

"No," Emily said.

"But," Harry started.

"No," Emily said. "My story is not yours to tell. You will not use it as some tale of woe to better your situation."

"So, when every professor at this institution quits, how do you expect me to explain that?" Hermione said.

"They won't quit," Emily said. She fished the spear of olives out of her drink and ate one off of it. She looked thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and eating the second one.

"What on Earth gives you that idea?" Hermione asked.

"Drink please," Emily said.

"Do you think you should keep at it?" Harry asked.

"I am not facing today sober," Emily said.

"Fair enough," Harry said as another drink appeared.

"I am failing to see how you are going to do anything helpful," Hermione said.

"I'll talk to them," Emily said.

"Because that will work," Hermione retorted.

"It will," Emily agreed. "Once I've spoken with them, things will be back to normal."

"Oh Merlin. You're going to curse them," Hermione said.

"No wand and no magic," Emily responded.

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Emily said. "So when it's not an absurd hour, I'll clean up Harry's mess and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do."

"What if they try to kill you?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think any of them have the stones to attempt to murder me in cold blood. But if they do, then I have considerably less to worry about," Emily said.

"You can't be so nonchalant about death," Hermione said.

"Why not? I've mostly done it twice," Emily said, this time eating the olives out of the drink before starting on it.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Hermione said.

"We're not," Emily responded as she shoved the final forkful of egg into her mouth. She washed it down with a large gulp of her drink and stood.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"I think Filius or Minerva are likely awake now. May as well start prostrating myself and hope for the best," Emily said.

"The best?" Harry asked.

"Killing curse to the head," Emily responded. She leaned over the table in front of Harry, his too-big shirt falling off of her as she grabbed her drink. She readjusted it around her shoulders when she stood and took another sip.

"I'll go with you," Harry said.

"No," Emily responded, very sternly. "I'll clean up your mess myself."

"Should you maybe get dressed?" Harry asked.

"Probably," Emily said, taking another sip of her drink, and stepping from the Great Hall.

"Harry, if she kills one of the teachers," Hermione started.

"She won't," Harry interrupted.

"You can't know that," Hermione scoffed.

"Why do you think she will?" Harry asked.

"Because she's a murderer!" Hermione argued.

"I don't go around just killing staff members," Harry said.

"What? Why would you. That's ridiculous," Hermione said.

"I'm a murderer," Harry said.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"Five in New York. About ten in Milwaukee. Close to the same number in Japan. Twenty-odd in Canada. Thirty or so in India," Harry said.

"Harry," Hermione said.

"And that's even before we get into debacle that was Oslo," Harry continued.

"It's not the same!" Hermione interjected.

"Sure it is," Harry said. "I was there. I had major disagreements with people. Rather than settle it diplomatically we resorted to violence. When it was over there were fewer of them and the same amount of me."

"Those were Dark Wizards, Harry," Hermione said.

"Some were," Harry said. "It's really not that simple. Sometimes I killed out of anger. Sometimes for survival. And sometimes just to make the next step easier. Ideal wise, I didn't agree with any of them, sure. But that doesn't make them any less dead. And unless you believe that might makes right, it doesn't make me any more correct than they thought they were."

"But you're not evil," Hermione said.

"Outside of the war I'm pretty sure my body count is higher than hers," Harry said. "And hers started out mostly with criminals and terrible people."

"And that makes it right?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not," Harry said. "Nor did it make it right when I did it. Just easier. And given that I am not running around offing people left and right I think we can give her the benefit of the doubt."

"You can't seriously trust her," Hermione said.

"Not yet," Harry said. "Not entirely at least."

"And when she tries to kill you again?" Hermione asked.

"She can't," Harry said.

"She can't?! She can't?! Why on Earth would you possibly believe that?" Hermione asked. "Do you think because you beat her once she couldn't possibly one up you?"

"No," Harry said. "It's deeper than that, Hermione."

"Are you going to tell me?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Not until after I've talked with her about it. I have a few hunches. Hunches I'm reasonably certain about, mind you. But still, I'd like to discuss it with her first."

"So, she could still hurt you," Hermione said.

"No. That part I'm fairly confident on. It's just the semantics around it that I'd like to confirm," Harry said.

"If she can't hurt you, Harry, then why the entire thing? Why kill your parents? Why have the whole war? Why do any of it?" Hermione asked.

"It's a more recent development than that. If I had to guess I'd say probably during the spring of our fifth year," Harry said.

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione said.

"Professor Potter," Minerva McGonagall's voice rang through the Great Hall. As soon as she saw the two of them she started marching toward them.

"Oh, this can't be good," Harry said.

"I'll go find Poppy," Hermione said. "And deal with you and this later."

"Lovely to see you, Miss Granger. But I really need to speak to the Headmaster alone," McGonagall said.

"I was just finishing up anyway," Hermione said as she stood from the table.

"Walk with me, Harry," McGonagall said.

"Okay Minerva," Harry responded as the transfiguration professor led him from the Great Hall.

"I trust you know what this is about," Minerva said as sternly as she could muster.

"I have a fairly good idea," Harry responded as they turned toward the staff tower. A group of Hufflepuffs on their way to an early breakfast dodged out of their way as they walked passed. Harry thought he recognized a few members of the quidditch team, but he didn't spare them more than a glance.

"So you can imagine our surprise when, during our weekly morning tea, Filius and I had a visitor," Minerva continued.

"Good surprise or bad surprise?" Harry asked.

"That remains to be seen," McGonagall said.

"Who recognized her first?" Harry asked.

"I think we recognized her at about the same time. I am a little surprised that you didn't deny that she's who we thought," Minerva said.

"Would that have done any good?" Harry asked.

"Unlikely," McGonagall said.

"But you're not surprised that I brought her back?" Harry asked.

"No," Minerva paused for a moment, raising herself up to her full height, which was still a few inches shorter than him, and looking at him. Something that was far more menacing when she was taller than him. "Albus always thought you might."

"Of course he did," Harry said. "And had a thousand plans in place for when it happened, I'm sure."

"He told us to act how we saw fit," Minerva said.

"And?" Harry asked.

"How would you react, Headmaster, if a drunk young woman wandered, half-naked, into your study at six in the morning?" Minerva asked.

"That would depend entirely on my relationship with said drunk young lady, the amount of alcohol in my own system, and how much sleep I'd gotten in the last twelve hours," Harry responded.

"Are you ever not flippant?" McGonagall snapped.

"Yes," Harry said, flippantly.

"Why did you do it?" McGonagall asked.

"I can't beat Grindelwald alone," Harry said.

"I'm sure there are people who believe that reason. Or at least that do not call you out when you give it to them. But you were never a good liar," McGonagall said.

"But I can't," Harry said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. That is an excuse you are using to justify your actions. It is not the reason for them," McGonagall said. "It is not _why_ you did what you did. Just tell me it is not something unbearably stupid. Tell me you don't think she cared for you. Or that you aren't foolish enough to care for her."

"While I don't agree with a lot of what she did. I don't hate her," Harry admitted.

"Albus did say you had a remarkable capacity for empathy," McGonagall responded as they entered the office. Emily was asleep on the couch, snoring softly, her hair somehow out of the ponytail and covering most of her face. The diminutive charms professor, Filius Flitwick, sat in a chair across from her. He was nursing a cup of coffee and wore a curious expression as he looked upon the sleeping witch.

"Does he have a good reason?" Flitwick asked.

"He's yet to give me one," McGonagall answered.

"I did. You said I was lying," Harry said.

"No, I said you had an excuse and not a reason. Most educators can tell the difference, Headmaster," McGonagall responded.

"Ouch," Harry said.

"So what are we doing about this?" Flitwick said, gesturing to Emily on the couch.

"Harry seems to feel that she is crucial to the upcoming war effort against Grindelwald," McGonagall said.

"He's already decided there's going to be a war," Flitwick said.

"And lost the first engagement," Harry said.

"Which is apparently why he decided he needed that," McGonagall said as she peered down at Emily with a very disdainful look.

"Well that's marginally better than I'd anticipated," Flitwick responded.

"What did everyone anticipate," Harry sighed.

"I'd think that obvious," McGonagall said. "More so considering her current attire."

"Hey I didn't dress her," Harry said. "And I pity anyone that would try."

"And did you think that people would be willing to accept this decision?" Flitwick asked.

"I had hoped I wouldn't have to tell many people. I don't plan on advertising it," Harry said.

"And us?" Flitwick asked.

"I had no intention of keeping her return a secret from the staff," Harry said. "And I was hoping I could trust them with that information."

"And if you can't?" Flitwick asked.

"Then I'm run out of the country and the Ministry likely gains control of Hogwarts," Harry responded.

"So, you're levying past hatred toward governmental interference?" McGonagall asked.

"It's about all I have," Harry said.

"And the need to fight Grindelwald?" Flitwick asked.

"I saw a leader avoid the fight everywhere possible. I don't want to be that leader. Eventually, they're going to ask me to fight him. I'd rather it not come to that," Harry said.

"By acting first you can easily turn yourself into the villain," Flitwick said.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "I'm already the villain in the eyes of the Ministry. I'd just like to hope most of the continent remembers Grindelwald and sees me as a better alternative."

"As she's the more recent threat than Gellert Grindelwald. People may well be more afraid of her than him," Flitwick said.

"And you?" Harry asked.

"They're both terrifying," Flitwick said. "And they both believed in the superiority of magic. What's to stop her from joining him?"

"Pride," Harry said.

"Pride?" Flitwick chuckled.

"She won't join anyone. She won't follow anyone," Harry said.

"And yet you think she'll follow you? You're contradicting yourself," McGonagall said.

"I don't think she'll follow me," Harry said. "I just need her to do exactly what she did before."

"Try to kill you? Harry everything negative in your life came from her," McGonagall responded.

"No. She's going to protect me," Harry said.

"Minerva, he…" Flitwick started.

"Sounds insane," McGonagall finished.

"I'm not," Harry said.

"Then explain your reasoning," McGonagall said.

"It's complicated," Harry said. "But it's the same reason Avery follows me. It's the same reason I walked out of the ministry. I didn't actually kill her. I think everyone who knows me knows that. She did it all to get me out of there," Harry frowned as he tried to explain events he himself wasn't nearly as sure of as he'd hoped.

"You're not giving us a reason," Flitwick said.

"I guess I'm not," Harry responded. "It's hard to explain and there's a whole lot of things involved that don't make sense. But I don't think she can hurt me. And I think that, eventually, I'll be able to sway her to help me."

"You have to give us something more than that," McGonagall responded.

"I can't. It's a strange combination of things. Did Dumbledore tell you why it had to be me?" Harry asked.

"Eventually," Flitwick frowned.

"Well so you know that a part of her was inside of me and likely a part of me in her. So attacking me becomes more problematic as it's attacking her," Harry lied. It was an excuse that he thought they would eat up. McGonagall looked skeptical.

"Dumbledore expected that might happen. But he figured it would only work once," Flitwick said.

"There's more. But that's where it gets strange. And I can't claim to be in her head," Harry frowned at the words. "But I think she regrets something with my parents. And I think I remind her of something she lost ages ago. And because of that, she's not going to do anything to harm me."

"And what of the rest of us?" McGonagall asked.

"That would annoy me and lead to a conflict with me. And given that I don't think she's suicidal, I don't think that's going to happen," Harry said.

"And can you guarantee that she will not harm any of the students?" Flitwick asked.

"I can't guarantee that either of you won't harm any of the students," Harry said. "But I don't think you will, and I don't think she will. And if she does I will do everything in my power to ensure that it never happens again and resign when that's done."

"Well you are learning, if slowly," McGonagall sighed.

"Minerva are you really okay with this?" Flitwick asked gesturing to the sleeping witch before of him. It was as if sensing that the Transfiguration matron had made up her mind.

"No," McGonagall said. "But Dumbledore told us to trust Harry."

"That was a portrait," Flitwick said.

"And the man himself years before," McGonagall countered. "I think he's earned some trust. But if there is any sign that he, or she, is undeserving of that faith then we will have no choice but to act."

"I would expect nothing else," Harry said.

"I'll go talk to the staff that could recognize her," McGonagall said.

"And tell them what?" Harry said.

"I have no idea," McGonagall responded as she started to leave the room. "But I am sure that anything I can come up with will be better than your psychotic Grindewald excuse."

"You're really going to go along with this?" Flitwick asked.

"I have to trust the Headmaster," McGonagall said. "Besides. I think it presents an interesting situation."

"And what's that?" Flitwick asked.

"She could lift the curse on the defense post," McGonagall said. But we can discuss those possibilities later, Filius. For now, I think I should speak with the staff as soon as possible. Pomfrey and Sprout, I imagine, will not take the news well."

"If you think that's the best course of action," Flitwick said.

"I do," McGonagall said as she left. Harry watched her go, wondering if she would succeed where he knew he'd fail.

"You should get her out of my sitting room, Headmaster," Flitwick said tersely. Harry nodded and levitated Emily from the room.

To Harry's surprise. McGonagall succeeded in her mission. It was a very tense three days. Tense to the point that Hermione even bailed on the rest of his review. He knew that wouldn't end well for him. But for the time being he had other things to worry about. Which consisted mostly of waiting for something to be published claiming he'd brought back a Dark Lord.

But that news didn't appear in the Prophet. In fact, nothing that really resembled news appeared in the prophet. It seemed like nothing other than fluff pieces designed to distract from the crisis at hand. It infuriated Harry.

And that was exemplified by Avery shrugging and saying that maybe, just maybe, the crisis was more in Harry's mind than reality.

He leaned back in his chair and gazed out the window of his office. Avery's words bugged him. Probably because he could sense a bit of truth to them. He'd given up trying to get any work done that afternoon. Instead he was just waiting for the evening paper, knowing full well that would just darken his mood.

Still, McGonagall wouldn't tell him what she'd said to whom, or what she'd promised. But he still had his full staff and Emily hadn't interrupted any of the day-to-day proceedings. He wondered how long it would last.

He kept gazing out the window. His eyes tracing over the edges of the lake. Eventually they came to rest on a stone bench on the shoreline with two familiar figures seated on it.

He frowned, wondering what they could be saying. Suddenly he didn't feel like being in his office any longer.

"This seat taken?" Alexander Avery asked as he stood next to a stone bench on the shore of the lake.

"Not as of yet," Emily Price responded quietly, his voice barely audible against the general noise of the school and the students. It wasn't quite cold enough to deter most from venturing outside and some of the students were enjoying the last vestiges of sunlight before the evening meal.

"You've been avoiding me," Avery said.

"Don't take it personally. I've been avoiding everyone," Emily responded.

"I'm surprised that you've managed to avoid Harry," Avery said. Emily leaned back on the bench and stared up toward the sky.

"He's not that hard to avoid," Emily replied.

"I don't know," Avery said. "In my experience he can be quite persistent."

"I'm sure. But I think like him. You do not," Emily said. "That makes him easier to predict."

"Do you think like him or does he think like you?" Avery asked.

"Is there a difference?" Emily asked.

"We both know the answer to that," Avery said.

"Yet you still asked the question," Emily said.

"I did," Avery said. And they sat in silence. The older man gazed over at the younger woman. Her face was turned upward toward the sun, a ghost of a smile appearing on her visage. Eventually Avery won and she spoke.

"Fumiko seems nice," Emily said.

"She is," Avery smiled.

"One day you'll have to tell me how that happened," Emily said.

"What, think I can't woo someone without your help?" Avery asked.

"What makes you think I didn't help?" Emily asked. Avery laughed aloud.

"Of course," he shook his head. "Just couldn't resist playing matchmaker?"

"Never," Emily said. "Although I liked Celia more. You're old enough to be Fumiko's father."

"Not quite," Avery said. "Less of an age gap than you and Burke."

"I didn't marry Burke. Mostly I used him for free meals," Emily said.

"I don't doubt you used him. But I don't think you did so for free meals," Avery said.

"Did you come out here to talk about me?" Emily asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"I don't know why I came out here," Avery sighed.

"Under orders, I presumed," Emily said.

"No," Avery said. "I haven't been under orders for a very long time."

"Is that so? Then why haven't you left him?" Emily asked.

"Well at first I was a fugitive but people mostly ignored that as long as I was with Harry. And then he started to do fascinating things," Avery said.

"Like what?" Emily asked.

"Everything," Avery shrugged. "He would just do magical things seemingly without a thought. I mean I got him drunk one night and he stole the Lunar Module."

"Why would he do that?" Emily looked away to hide a smile.

"He wanted to try to go to the moon. He was very drunk. He put it back a few days later. But he did it, from New York, by simply waving his hand. There were moments when he made me feel like a muggle. It was like being around you when you decided to show off," Avery said. He paused for the briefest of moments before adding, "And I wanted to see what he'd do next."

"And that led you to Japan?" Emily asked.

"Eventually," Avery said. "It was a long, strange trip."

"What happened there?" Emily probed.

"That's his story to tell. My part in it was simply doing the books, balancing the budgets, and meeting a pretty but depressed shop girl with minimal magical talent," Avery said.

"An accountant and a shop girl?" Emily asked, with her brows raised.

"Something like that," Avery said.

"Her version was more romantic than yours," Emily said.

"That's not surprising," Avery said. "May I ask when you spoke with her?"

"When she helped me acquire an acceptable wardrobe for a modern young lady," Emily responded, a taste of vehemence in her tone she spoke. Avery smiled to himself, but knew better than to laugh aloud as he wondered if her annoyance was at being considered a young lady, or modern clothing.

"She mentioned conversing briefly. She thought your Japanese was quite good for how out of practice it was," Avery said.

"So she said. She also implied that Harry was likely to use you to attempt to get some information out of me," Emily said.

"To which, I believe, you responded would be a futile endeavor," Avery said.

"So, what does the boy want to know?" Emily sighed.

"I've no idea. He does wonder if you even still have magic. He's openly questioned that, given that it does not seem like you've done any since coming back," Avery said.

"That would really throw a wrench into his plans, wouldn't if. If I were a squib now?" Emily asked.

"He hasn't fully shared that plan with me as of yet. But I would assume it is contingent on you having magic. I assume you still do," Avery said.

"Of course," Emily said. And as if to prove a point she waved her hand toward the lake. About a quarter of the water froze into a perfect square before her.

"Why avoid using it then?" Avery asked.

"Are you asking for you or for him?" Emily responded.

"For both," Harry said from behind them, his eyes resting on the patch of ice on the lake.

"Unfortunately," Emily said quietly, "The answer is different for each of you."

"Well share one of them," Harry suggested. Emily kept her silence, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Preferably the one for me," Avery said dryly. Emily's lips curled upward as he spoke.

"I'm not sure that's a great idea," Emily said

"Someone once told me that we must always be willing to explain our actions," Harry said.

"You really want to know?" Emily asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Come find out then," Emily responded. She waved her hand toward her feet and a pair of ice skates materialized on them. She took four shaky steps toward the lake and then skated onto it, moving away from the two men on the shore.

"Can you skate?" Avery asked.

"I didn't think I could," Harry shrugged. "But I've been wrong before."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

Chapter 6

Harry waved his hands toward his feet and watched as his shoes turned into something more. The skates seemed quite strange on his feet and when he stood, he wobbled for a moment. But he eventually made it to the ice, his mind filled with thoughts of just how he was about to embarrass himself.

But as soon as the blades cut into the ice the knowledge flowed through him. Something almost akin to memories flooded into his mind as he started to glide on the smooth surface as he felt the closest muggle sensation to riding a broom that he'd ever experienced. He enjoyed it for the moment it lasted.

It was all too overwhelming. His legs struggled to keep up with his brain, and then, they simply didn't. And then he was sliding across the ice on his back, a sharp pain ringing through his head.

When he finally stopped, he simply stared up at the sky, wondering just how much of a fool he managed to look. A moment later a pair of brown eyes appeared above him. They were shortly accompanied by a pretty young face and they seemed to inflate as they looked at him.

"If I'd have known it was that easy to kill you, I'd have invited you skating years ago," Emily said as she peered down at him.

"I'm not dead yet," Harry groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Good," Emily said. She paused for a moment but then offered her hand down to him and helped him back to his feet. She steadied him briefly with her hands on his hips before slipping away once more.

This time he started slowly as the almost-memories flashed into his mind again. When he moved it felt much more natural. He started to glide across the ice once more, taking a few moments to get used to his movements. Emily kept her distance from him. Even when he tried to move in her direction, she was too quick and too agile and slipped easily away from him.

He noticed some students approaching the ice with curious looks on their face. A few older girls were giggling and blushing as they looked out toward him. He pushed the thought of their gossip from his head.

"You never told me you could skate," Harry said. "I don't think I ever saw you do it in the diary."

"I almost took you in Chicago," Emily responded. Harry felt the memory of people skating at a makeshift rink in a park rush toward the forefront of his mind. They'd eaten in a pub nearby one afternoon early in their little vacation. He was too busy marveling at the new city to notice her longing glances at the ice.

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked.

"Father Wood," Emily said. Harry swallowed hard at the name.

"Is that the man you killed in the church?" Harry asked, remembering one of her first murders as the woman who would become Lord Voldemort.

"No," she responded. "Father Benjamin Wood died during the blitz."

"Oh," Harry said. He could sense truth in her words. But a smaller voice in the back of his mind scoffed at that explanation for his death.

"He'd take me once a month. Always the first weekend of the month," Emily said.

"I see," Harry responded. Emily twirled before him and then stopped on the ice facing him. Her expression was enough to tell him that she didn't think he could see at all.

"He wasn't that bad, really. He'd at least feed me. And take me to fancy restaurants. I was so scared of doing something wrong that I'd just sit there silently. But the food was much better than they did at the orphanage. And then we'd always go and do something. There were all sorts of activities. But when there was ice, we would skate," Emily explained.

"That sounds-" Harry started, but the words caught in his throat as he couldn't come up with a proper adjective to express what he was feeling. Part of him, the naive romantic part, was hoping for a happy ending.

"The first couple of times that was all it was, too. In a way I think that was worse. He gave me hope, you see. But he turned out to be the same as the others," Emily sighed dismissively. "After he died, I never put on skates again. I never wanted to."

"Except for now," Harry said.

"Except for now," Emily agreed.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because I wanted to," Emily shrugged. "Because when I made the ice I felt like gliding over it once more. Because I missed it. Because I used to enjoy it."

"Used to?" Harry asked, thinking that now, in that moment, she looked rather pleased to be on skates.

"When he turned out like the others I lost my interest in skating," Emily repeated, annoyance rising in her voice.

"And today?" Harry asked.

"The ice looked nice," Emily shrugged.

"And what does this have to do with not using magic?" Harry asked.

"I did use magic though," she said. She gestured to her feet as she spoke, and then opened her arms to the scene around her. Some students were examining the ice curiously and, for a moment, Harry thought they would try to venture onto it. But before he could focus too much on that she turned and skated away once more. He followed her as cautiously as he could manage.

"That's not what I meant," Harry said.

"Isn't it?" Emily asked.

"Oh. You're making an analogy," Harry answered.

"Am I?" Emily asked.

"That or I'm even denser than most people seem to think," Harry said. The only noise that followed was the sound of blades cutting through the ice. She stopped next to him with a slight flourish.

"For what it's worth. I don't think you're that dense," Emily said.

"You have to say that," Harry said.

"No, I don't," Emily retorted.

"Anyway, if you knew it all, I think you'd probably have a change of heart," Harry said.

"What don't I know?" Emily asked.

"I wrote a book," Harry said. "It's not published yet. But it's close. I have a copy of it."

"About?" Emily asked, her eyes narrowing as if she already knew the answer to the question.

"You," Harry said.

"That isn't your story to tell," Emily said.

"I think you forfeited that right when you died," Harry said.

"Why did you do it?" Emily asked.

"Because no one else would. And no one else knows as much as I did. And I mean, they won't even talk about it. They still won't even call you by your name. They're afraid of it years later. Except for Fudge's bragging. And that's wrong to me. That's just dooming to repeat it once more. And since all of your known followers save Avery were executed, no one else was ever going to get more information past baseless speculation. So, I wrote the biography of Lord Voldemort," Harry explained. He held up his hand and a few seconds later a large bound tome flew into his hand. He offered it to her.

"What did you tell them?" she asked as she took it from him, starting to page through it.

"Almost everything," Harry said. "I left out the specifics of your time at the orphanage. Although I did find records of, well, how much income you generated…But, I left it vague. And I didn't mention the Gaunts. And the Riddles only briefly. But other than that, I didn't really sugar coat anything. Although I left out the details of the final night at the ministry."

"Great," Emily frowned as she paged through the book. "When's it getting published?"

"When I tell them to," Harry said. "I still haven't decided if I want to tell the world everything. And if I want to end Fudge by telling the truth about the ministry. So, it's on hold for now. But I'm sure they'll want to get it out soon."

"Of course they will. If Harry Potter tells all about his mortal enemy it'll be a sure-fire best seller," Emily scoffed as she paged through the book. She stopped when she got halfway and the pages shifted to a glossier sheen.

"That's what they keep telling me," Harry said.

"Where did you get these?" she asked, staring down at the pages.

"Most of them were in your home. The Prices had the wedding photos. Burke had the one of you at the shop. School records had a few more," Harry shrugged. "Honestly they weren't that hard to find."

"I see," Emily said. "So, you spoke to Burke and the Price family."

"Burke yes. Martin's parents are dead. A cousin, I think, with some magical assistance, let me look through some of the old photos," Harry said.

"I don't really approve of this," Emily said as she stared down at the photographs he'd chosen for the book. Her eyes lingered on one of her in a wedding dress, preparing to toss the bouquet into a waiting crowd.

"I figured you wouldn't. But there are things the world needs to know," Harry said.

"I think they'd be better off if they simply erased me from their memories," Emily commented.

"Honestly, you were only part of what I think they need to understand," Harry said. Emily turned the page of the book, glancing down at a photograph of Martin Price in uniform as it appeared. She stared for a moment before closing the book.

"Japan," Emily said.

"Japan," Harry admitted.

"You went there," Emily said.

"I spent a great deal of time there," Harry admitted. Emily pressed her lips together but before she could comment a small voice spoke from the shore.

"Excuse me, miss?" it said. Harry turned to look, feeling annoyance rise up in him in that moment. A couple of younger students, perhaps third years, were loitering around the edge of the ice.

"Yes?" Emily asked, her tone surprisingly mellow as she turned to face them. She skated a few steps closer to the students as she did so.

"Could you teach me how to do that?" the student, a young Ravenclaw boy whose surname was, Harry thought, Burton, blurted out.

"What, skate?" Emily asked, a smile slowly drawing out her dimple.

"Yes," the boy said, flushing as Emily smiled at him.

"Not today," Emily said. "But maybe I'll host lessons next weekend."

"Oh, okay," the boy said, making no effort to hide his disappointment.

"Are you a new professor?" a Hufflepuff girl asked.

"No," Emily said. "Just a….an…acquaintance…of Harry."

"Are you his girlfriend?" the girl asked with a wide-eyed astonishment. Harry frowned at the question. He knew some of the older students fancied him. It wasn't really even that surprising. He wasn't that much older than him and he was wealthy, famous, and according to Witch Weekly, quite handsome. But he always found it worrying whenever he saw instances of it in person.

"He wishes he was that lucky," Emily teased. "He's not my type."

"I see," the Hufflepuff said, her tone indicating she didn't think Emily was being honest.

"But you should get back into the castle," Emily said as she skated along the edge of the lake, shooing the students toward the school as she did. "The elves get quite cross when students are late for meals."

"Fine," the students groaned as they continued to walk back to the castle. Emily skated back toward him, stopping sharply in front of him,

"Tell me about Japan," she ordered, picking up their previous conversation as if there has been no interruption. He looked down at her, fighting to keep a passive expression but he knew the frown must have been visible. It took him a few moments to come to a decision, but eventually he knew that she'd find out one way or another and it would simply be easier to tell her.

"Fine," he said. "But it's a long story. We should do it inside."

Harry and Avery had been in Japan far longer than any other country they'd visited, although that wasn't a particularly impressive benchmark. Harry was surprised that Avery wasn't growing more restless with the country, but he suspected his general intrigue in a shop girl outside of Nagasaki was keeping him interested.

They'd spent the majority of time in Osaka, but did travel around the country, mostly splitting time between Hiroshima and Nagasaki when not in Osaka. The Japanese ministry officials that they'd encountered were rather thrilled to have Harry Potter in the country. But he could tell they were wearing out their welcome rather quickly.

Harry liked that they were rather secretive and didn't do anything to reveal that he was in the country. And because of that, no one, aside from Hermione who'd visited a few weeks earlier to ask him if she should really take the promotion in the ministry, knew where he was. And he preferred it that way. He was too used to his whereabouts being revealed and having to flee from people looking to catch a glimpse of him. But so far that hadn't happened.

The magical communities they'd found weren't very prosperous. While magic was possible in Osaka, it seemed more difficult than elsewhere. Harry barely noticed. But it hit Avery harder. It took about six months for Avery to be able to cast any spell.

That seemed to be the common theme with foreign wizards. Six months or nothing at all.

But Avery couldn't cast around Hiroshima or Nagasaki. And in those areas it became much more difficult to determine if anyone even had magical talent. Harry found himself able to do most of his old magic. But it all seemed weaker.

He had a theory about that. Not one he was ready to share. And he was pretty sure that was what irritated the locals the most. They didn't seem to take kindly to Europeans showing up and poking and prodding at their history. Harry's continued interest in the nuclear sites caused some unrest.

It probably didn't help that he wasn't the only one interested in it, either.

He couldn't help it though. They were fascinating. There was something just oddly intoxicating at the oppressiveness of it all. He could remember Emily's reaction to it. The surprised look on her face as her power was sapped away. And the determined look as she fought against the oppression and regained it.

Harry visited one of the sites nearly daily. Once or twice he slept at them. At first Avery followed him around. But he grew bored with that and eventually just followed him to Nagasaki.

He probably would have figured that out sooner had he been paying attention. But he'd been preoccupied. He spent the months engrossed in Emily's memories and then exploring the place for real.

It wasn't difficult to occupy himself. Eventually he started to map his explorations. He found the epicenter at both sites. He determined where the suppression was strongest and where it waned. He fought against it until he felt like himself.

Sometimes it grew a crowd. And not always a purely magical crowd. But he kept it up anyway. Eventually some of the more interested locals would join him. They'd all claimed magic had been in their ancestry. And asked Harry to help them.

So, he tried to help them. There was little he could do. But five or six of them displayed some talent despite the awfulness of the situation. He conned Avery into working with him and Avery did, although he mostly focused his attention on one of the more promising older students around Nagasaki.

He tried every teaching method he could think of. He bought a score of wands in Osaka and tried giving them to the students to have something to focus their limited power into. It garnered some success. He tried to have them read everything he could find about magical theory to see if that would help. But as a whole it didn't.

No, eventually they ran into a brick wall with their studies. And he knew what the cause of it was. But he didn't know how to accurately combat it. He tried taking them away from the mapped zones to see if their powers manifested more readily. And that also had some success but not much.

It was like, he thought, the Americans had cursed them. That it was so ingrained into their very being that they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He wondered just how many generations it would last if left unchecked.

He could picture it, siphoning into them and draining them of their very being; an ever-present parasite waiting to feed on more and more. And it drove him mad that he couldn't think of a way around it. His thoughts soon became consumed with it. It couldn't work that way, he thought. There was no way that magic could be so inferior, and so destroyed, by something as asinine as a muggle bomb.

There had to be something he could do. And so he went back to reading up on his own theory. He found some interesting papers by a Doctor Singh, who'd worked in the region after the war, about the effects of radiation. But that was about it. There was very little written on the topic to help him.

He looked for anything that could have been similar. He found some helpful writing. But not much. He didn't really make any sort of a breakthrough until he met a girl.

Priya Patel showed up in Japan around a month before Hermione Granger took her vacation there. She'd tutored under the very same Doctor Singh whose research Harry was using as reference materials and wanted to explore the land herself for a few weeks before going back to England.

Harry noticed her a couple of times at the same sites he'd visit. She'd usually sit out of the way somewhere and doodle in a journal while occasionally attempting some sort of magic. It was never particularly successful.

She'd recognized him early on. They'd chat a little bit, but not much more than that. It was always nice to see a friendly face who spoke the same language. She actually spoke with him more when he went to Nagasaki with Hermione. Avery thought she and Hermione were quite catty with each other. But Harry hadn't noticed.

Eventually, though, they were drawn together by a shared fascination for the problem around them. And soon they found that they shared quite a bit more. At first it was just a general interest in the area and research. But it hadn't taken long to realize how much they complemented each other.

Priya would take meticulous notes and was able to recall just about any form of information that she'd read or studied. She'd keep an incredible record of everything they attempted. And their shared brainstorming sessions made more progress in a matter of weeks than in the months they'd spent alone.

They both marveled at how quickly they seemed to progress with each other. So much so that Priya decided she should extend her stay in Japan in order to continue their research. She'd claimed that solving a sixty-year-old magical mystery was far more important than doing menial tasks in the Accidental Magic ward of St. Mungo's.

And, she confessed, sharing a byline with Harry Potter on a research topic would do wonders to further her career once she decided to leave Japan.

Their work; however, was always slow. And it was always daunting. Nothing that they did seemed to have any sort of immediate effect on the surrounding areas. They could have perhaps worked faster but their original plan consisted of trying something in Nagasaki and notating the results. After that they would try the same thing in Hiroshima and see if the results differed.

Then, day three as it were, would be devoted to discussing the results and debating just what they should try to do next. The entire process was mentally and physically exhausting.

It was unlike any partnership Harry had entered into. They talked as equals and they worked as equals. Yes, they argued about method here and there as Priya tended to want to be cautious and scientific whereas Harry's general strategy was to wing it. But, they sorted it out quickly and compromised easily and continued with their work with no lingering consequences. But idle conversation caused things to change over the months of their dual research and other topics became prominent while working.

They'd share ideas and theories freely and rather than discrediting each other would try to make each little theory work.

Somewhere in there they discovered a shared passion for quality sushi, cartoons neither of them really understood, Tokyo, and dry humor. What had started as chance encounters at their research sites rather quickly turned into scheduled meetings and planning sessions and days spent almost entirely together.

Avery gave him space, finding the whole situation amusing but also enjoying that it gave him more time to his own devices. He would join them once or twice a week to help here and there. He mostly observed but when he made a suggestion it was often a rather good one.

The two of them were renting a rather large home in Osaka at the time and Harry would still see him most nights. Although his protector never really voiced it, Harry thought the older man was happy for him.

Soon, and Harry honestly wasn't sure who initiated it or if it had just happened, they spent even more time together. He remembered weekends early on where he actually missed working with her. But he thought it was presumptuous to go looking for her and intrude on her plans. He thought it was just a professional relationship.

They'd done the little things, like exchanging birthday gifts and holiday meals in the foreign land. And somewhere along the line had grown comfortable while close to each other. But that was all.

Soon they'd settled into a routine. They'd refresh themselves on the plan for the day over breakfast. Then they'd enact that plan in the field. Six to eight hours later they'd return to whichever town they'd felt like exploring. First, they'd debrief and plan out the next day. Second, they'd become tourists and let the thoughts of work slip from their minds. Then, after a night of fun and exploring, they'd go their separate ways.

And then, eventually, on weekends they'd meet up and do the full tourist thing. A museum and a lunch here, a historical sight and a dinner there, it was all very easy and entertaining.

Somewhere in there they started sharing more than just interests and research. It started simple. Metaphorical shared meals turned into literal shared meals. Starting with a shared dessert after a meal, utensils mingling in half-melted ice cream as they spent more time looking at each other than eating. And then shared appetizers and entrees working their way in until it was full meals.

They'd even do asinine things they had no reason to, like sharing a cab at the end of the night for no other reason than to spend a few more moments in each other's company. Or a scarf in the colder months for the chance of a lingering scent. Or using the other's wand when it was closer for convenience, as if hoping some bit of its owner would infuse them.

At some point, the little things manifested into everything. They shared a grip while walking down streets, shoulders when they needed a rest, a toothbrush when it was pertinent, a kiss, a caress.

And oddly, it felt completely normal as soon as it happened. Like it was the most perfect thing they could have possibly done. They didn't care that their research seemed to be grinding to a halt, despite the efforts they were still putting into it.

It was one such night when an idea struck Harry as he lay in bed, admiring Priya's flushed form in his lap, his hands on Priya's hips as she offered him a sip from a shared bottle of water.

"Thanks," he said, tracing his nails in small circles over her skin.

"You're welcome," she smirked down at him in response, finishing the bottle of water. She stayed perched on him for a moment, before lifting herself and falling down next to him. Harry shifted so they were spooning, his arm loosely around her.

They enjoyed the silence as they lay entangled in each other. A cool breeze blew through an open window and caressed their bodies. After a few moments Priya reached down for the blankets.

"I got it," Harry said as she wiggled against him to try to pull the blanket up. He didn't even need to move to convince the coverings to wrap, almost lovingly, around the two of them.

"I'll never get used to that," Priya sighed.

"You could do it too," Harry said.

"No," she chuckled. "I can't. Wandless, non-verbal precision summoning? No chance."

"It's just practice," Harry said.

"You can keep thinking that. But it is most certainly not. You've got this… I don't even know how to describe it," Priya sighed.

"Amazing body and wonderful sense of humor?" Harry countered, interrupting her.

"Eh, six out of ten to both," Priya said.

"Well someone isn't getting breakfast tomorrow morning," Harry said. "I'll have to do something heinous, like make you eat a waffle."

"Seven out of ten?" Priya amended, shyly.

"Still no," Harry said.

"Meanie," Priya said.

"Yes I am," Harry said.

"Anyway," Priya sighed, doing her best to not be distracted by thoughts of eggs and toast. "You're different. Surely you've noticed. Other people have limits. There's so much magic in them and there's a wall. It doesn't matter, usually, but with you, I mean I watch you when we work. And it's just always present."

"I guess," Harry sighed, his mind wandering while she spoke. Something that she said stuck out but he couldn't quite place it.

"It's such a stark contrast with what we're doing. We've talked about the utter emptiness of it all. How desolate the areas we're working on feel. You're the exact opposite. People can tell that, you know," Priya yawned as she finished speaking.

"I know," Harry said. He shifted and leaned over her to kiss her once before resting back down with her. They both knew they were too tired to continue that conversation. But something important was in her words, Harry knew, even if he couldn't place it.

He lay awake long after the only sound in the room was her soft, steady breathing as her words bounced around his head. But he wasn't alert enough to focus fully on it. And eventually he joined her in sleep.

He woke before her the next morning. He nearly always woke before her. Typically his stirring would wake her and she'd slip off to shower and read herself for the day. She had to shower first or she'd be cross with him.

Together would work in a pinch, but she had to be the first one in regardless of the situation. Something about showering second just irked her, and Harry had learned early on to just roll with it.

He slipped from the bed and peered at Priya as she cocooned herself into the blankets, mumbling something that might have been three different languages at once. Harry smiled at her sleeping form before finding some shorts and a cotton shirt with a logo of a Vancouver sports team on it. He didn't remember exactly why he'd bought the shirt, but he liked the logo.

After he dressed he slipped from the bedroom and moved toward the kitchen. He debated seeing if Avery was home, but decided against it as he could sense the remnants of a silencing charm on the bedroom door.

The kitchen was very modern. One of the few changes Harry had made to their Japanese residence. He didn't quite go full European with it. But he came pretty close. Avery had teased him that it was a pointless endeavor because they very rarely made food. But he hadn't done it because of an interest in cooking. He'd done it mostly to see if he could.

But as his relationship with Priya grew more and more intimate it started to get more use. They'd take turns cooking on nights where they'd spent too long working.

He rummaged through the cabinets mostly to see just what they still had on hand. Avery kept the house surprisingly well stocked. Of course, that was likely just because of his general interest in a certain grocer.

When his mental inventory and evening meal planning was complete, he moved to the refrigerator and took out some orange juice. He poured two glasses of it, setting them at adjacent places at the dining bar.

After that he started on the tea. He waited until it was brewing in the pot before he moved on to the food. He pulled out a handful of eggs, some sausage and some bread and went about preparing breakfast.

Priya was easy. Two scrambled eggs, toast closer to carbon than bread, and sausage done the same way. The only thing that really changed about her preferred breakfast was whichever jam she was interested in that day. And, on occasion, she'd prefer the eggs over-medium.

Normally Harry would just make a big batch of all three and roll with it but today he fried a couple of the eggs and decided to make himself a sandwich. He debated dicing up one of the thin breakfast sausages and throwing it on the egg but decided against it.

Priya, freshly showered, stepped into the kitchen right as he was plating the food. She was dressed to work in blue jeans, boots, a plain green t-shirt and a beige jacket thrown around her shoulders. She was waving her wand around her head as she moved, her hair braiding itself back as she did. She sat at the table and turned her wand on the teapot, summoning it over to the table and pouring two cups and resting them next to the orange juice.

"Morning babe," Harry said as he turned serve the food.

"Morning," she responded as she added a copious amount of salt and pepper to her eggs. They ate in relative silence. Harry finishing his sandwich nearly before Priya had finished preparing her eggs and toast.

He sat with her for a few minutes as she ate before excusing himself to shower. By the time he'd returned, dressed and ready for work, she'd already cleaned up all the remnants of their breakfast. She was peering through her notes as she sat at the table.

Harry stepped up behind her and leaned over to kiss her on the top of her head. He rested his lips on her head as he peered over at her notes.

"Cherry blossoms?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's new," Priya said. "Do you like it?"

"It's nice," Harry said, kissing her head once more.

"I thought so too," she said.

"Nagasaki again today?" Harry asked.

"Mmhmm," Priya intoned. "Although I was thinking maybe a lazier morning of wandering may do us some good rather than just heading straight to the blast zone. Help us clear our heads."

"Sounds good. I've got something bouncing around up there that could use clearing out," Harry said, his mind instantly bouncing to the night before. Her words rattling around inside his head seeming to be nothing more than inconsistent babble. But there was something there. Something that he was missing. He just couldn't quite get a handle on it.

"If it's that thing I wore for your birthday it's staying in your head," Priya said.

"Well that was lovely, but it's not what I had in mind," Harry said.

"Oh, do I even want to know?" Priya sighed, tilting her head back against him.

"It is work related," Harry said.

"Oh sure, take the fun right out of it," Priya said.

"I wouldn't complain if you wanted to go change," Harry said.

"Of course you wouldn't," Priya said. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes and enjoying the memories. "What's bouncing around your head that's work related?"

"I'll tell you on your hike," Harry said, standing up and looking around the kitchen. "Want me to make a picnic up and shall we just put in a half day after lunch?"

"Sure. You made breakfast though," Priya said, standing. She turned to him and kissed him, lovingly on the lips, letting it linger for a few moments. "Let me make up the picnic."

"Okay," Harry said. He slipped into her chair and watched as she went about putting together lunch. She summoned one of her large bags and deposited the food into it once it was ready.

"Is Alex coming with us?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Harry shrugged. "I haven't seen him yet this morning."

"Well then just food for the two of us," she said. "That should be enough food then."

"Probably. Shall we?" Harry asked. He took out his wand and waved it at a candlestick on the table, before standing and grabbing it.

"Okay," Priya said, shrugging the bag over her shoulder and stepping toward him. Once outside she took hold of the candlestick as the portkey dragged them to a small shrine outside of Nagasaki.

The members of the shrine had, or at least claimed to have, magical blood, albeit very little magical ability. Although, one of the younger maidens, a girl of ten or so named Hana, could cast some spells. The rest of them had all been nullified by the radiation. After some discussion, and some bartering of the occasional tutoring of the girl, they'd been allowed a small area around the back of the shrine to use for portkey arrivals.

Once they arrived, they started walking toward, and eventually up, Mount Inasa. Harry lagged behind Priya as they walked. Mostly because he liked the view.

But eventually she wanted to talk while they walked, so he took her hand and walked at her side, only letting go of her at points on the trail where they couldn't be side by side. They talked idly as they walked, both seeming to know that work talk could wait until they were actually working.

So instead their conversations came to their different experiences at Hogwarts. Harry was particularly interested in the two years she was at the institution when she wasn't. And the variously pathetic Defense teachers she had before he even got to experience them.

That led to, eventually, talk of what they should do for the next lesson at the shrine. It was becoming rather hard to come up with anything specific as what their student could do seemed almost random and limited.

Sometimes they'd plan an entire lesson and the girl wouldn't be able to do any of it. And they could tell it was rather disheartening for her. Other times she'd do something, almost accidentally, and they'd have to scramble to find a way to make a lesson that matched.

It was getting easier though. She seemed to be best at charms. And they were well into a second-year level there. The problem became mostly that there would be some rather easy charms that Hana simply couldn't do. And then more complicated ones that she could. There seemed to be no consistency with what magic she could perform

They set up a blanket near the top of the hill and gazed down at the bustling city as they ate and reminisced. They took their time with the food. Harry leaned back against a tree as he ate. Eventually Priya wound up leaning against his chest.

"So, what couldn't you get out of your head?" she asked as they both seemed to understand it was time to work.

"I think we're going about this wrong," Harry said. "And that's why we're not having much success."

"But we are having some success," Priya countered.

"Very minimal and not that is having any lasting effect on the areas," Harry said.

"Well yes, but it's still some success," Priya said.

"You sent all our notes to Dr. Singh. And even he didn't think it looked promising," Harry said.

"That isn't what he said," Priya responded. "He said it was probably too much work for two magicless wizards. But if you recall he thought we were probably on the right path. And just needed to recruit…a few thousand…more witches and wizards."

"I know," Harry said. "Bring an army of the most powerful people we can find and it might have some different. It's not a very promising idea. The Japanese ministry is already moderately annoyed at my presence. They just are too polite to say so to my face."

"So, what are you saying?" Priya asked. She lifted herself from him and turned to face him. "That you want to give up? Fourteen months of this and you want to just bail on it and leave?"

"That's not what I said-" Harry started.

"Because I've worked way too hard at this to leave without something that I can put my name on. I've passed on too many opportunities to be part of this to just give up," Priya said.

"Priya," Harry said, tersely, as he could sense she was about to go on a completely unnecessary rant.

"Sorry," she said, taking a deep breath.

"I don't want to give up. I just think we're going about this wrong," Harry said.

"What brought this on?" Priya asked.

"Remember last night when we were cuddling and you said it was like there was just so much magic in people and I was different because I never seemed to have a limit?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Priya said.

"Well that's it," Harry said, frowning as he struggled to articulate just what he was thinking. Knowing that wouldn't be enough to convince Priya of anything.

"I'm going to need more than that to not be cross with you," Priya said.

"Well, what we've been trying to do. Our specific goal, what we write on the first page of every notebook, is to bring magic back to these areas of Japan, right?" Harry frowned.

"Yes," Priya said.

"And that's literally what we've been doing. We're trying to infuse the area with magic, to let the magic eventually overpower the suppression. So that it could grow and eventually triumph. And it sort of works in some areas for an hour or a day or so. But always it loses. The magic is never enough to win. And we can't figure out a way around that. We've been stuck on that for six months," Harry said.

"Yes, but that's more progress than they made in half a century," Priya said.

"I know," Harry responded. "But what I'm saying, I guess. What if there's another way to approach it? We assume the magic we put into the land disappears. We assume the magic is gone. What if it isn't?"

"What do you mean?" Priya asked.

"What if the magic is still there. Just suppressed, like it's still in us, just suppressed," Harry said.

"If it was still there we should be able to draw it out far more than we can," Priya responded.

"Maybe, but we have no idea how difficult it could be simply to get through whatever exactly it is that's keeping it down. And really, we can't know that one way or another. Because there's no precedent to draw on. Just theories," Harry said.

"Which you now think are wrong?" Priya asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "But. Well. What if we're doing it wrong. We keep thinking of the superiority of magic. We keep thinking enough magic will eventually turn things back to normal. But what if it's not a matter of enough magic? What if we focus on drawing out the taint instead?"

"But we can't do that. People have tried to do that before and failed. Even the muggles can't find a way to get rid of that. They've got areas totally cordoned off because of it," Priya frowned.

"We've assumed that for a year. But we've never tried to," Harry said.

"And you think we can simply succeed where great minds have failed for forty years? Where better witches and wizards than us have decided it's impossible?" Priya asked.

Harry snorted. Priya frowned, his arrogance always came through at the strangest times, before continuing.

"So instead of continuing our attempts to infuse magic into the land. Attempts that are showing some signs of success but require near constant intentions to maintain that success, you want to try something completely different? Something that may very well undo most of our last year of work. And something that we have no idea if it is even possible?" Priya asked.

"Yes," Harry said. Priya close her eyes, her mouth curving into a frown. She took one long deep breath and then opened her eyes. She stared into his for a few moments before biting her lip an taking another deep breath.

"Well, how do we start?" she asked.

"I have no idea," Harry admitted. "I've only really just had the idea."

"I see," Priya said.

"I know it's not really a great way to go about anything," Harry started.

"No. It's not," Priya sighed. "But it's…interesting."

"That's never a good word," Harry said.

"No," Priya snorted. "It is most certainly not a good word."

"I understand if you don't want to," Harry started again.

"No," Priya interrupted once more. "It's not that. It's got some merit. And I think we might be able to preserve what we've done so far, at least at one of the sites. Both if you can convince Avery to help at least in Nagasaki."

"I can do that," Harry said.

"Then, if we plan it well enough, the only real thing we can lose is time. But if we don't really have any idea of what to do it will make progressing at all difficult," Priya said.

"I have some idea of what to do. At least how to start," Harry said.

"How?" Priya frowned. "Especially if the idea just came to you."

"Remember when we were both drunk and lamenting how a Japanese Christmas just wasn't quite an English Christmas?" Harry asked.

"And I got drunk enough to actually ask about what happened between you and you-know-who," Priya said, biting her bottom lip. She could still remember the look on his face as they cuddled under soft, fuzzy blankets before a fire. It was as if the entire house had dropped twenty degrees as soon as she said it.

He gone completely silent once she'd spoken. She was sure he'd stopped breathing. And for a very long and very painful moment she was sure that was it. That the one simple question, the one she knew she shouldn't ask, but the one that had always bothered her, always lingered in the back of her mind, and always raised some doubt, would be their undoing. And in a moment of utter weakness, her mind clouded by food, pleasure, whisky and wine, she'd asked it without a second thought.

And then he'd gone and done the worst thing he could possibly do. He told her the whole sordid affair.

"And I was drunk enough to answer," Harry admitted.

At first it was like he didn't want to. Like it was utterly wrong to admit to it. But as he spoke it was like removing bandages from an old wound. And the words just flooded from him.

He started talking about the Triwzard tournament and he ended with the final confrontation at the Ministry of Magic. He told her the story of Emily Price. And he told her how she'd used him. How she'd manipulated him. And how she'd messed with his head, for better or for worse.

That stuck with her for months. They were his words. For better, which he said with a sort of half amused smile. Or for worse, where the smile shifted to a confused frown. Almost as if it was something he'd been told but didn't quite believe. Still, they seemed almost like a vow of something he didn't understand.

Somehow, through it all, she thought she understood his need for absolution and his interest in Japan. But she'd never quite figured out if he knew just whose absolution he was working for.

In the end, it had been an emotionally exhausting night. He'd just kept talking and talking through it all and she'd learned what the ministry had tried so very hard to hide from everyone for so long.

She'd slipped from his bed the following morning. Remembering clearly that at the time she hadn't quite transitioned to thinking of it as their bed as of yet. She'd gone straight back to the room she was still renting in Tokyo, leaving him alone in the large, empty house in Osaka.

She hadn't really wanted to. She remembered wanting to wake him and kiss him goodbye. But she'd hesitated. And then left without a word. It wasn't like he hadn't known she was leaving in the morning. She'd actually almost invited him back to England for the holidays. She hadn't because somehow she knew he wasn't ready to return. And she just wasn't sure how to introduce the white boy she was sleeping with to her family. She didn't think they'd care. But sometimes they were more traditional than she'd expected.

She knew she needed time to process what she'd been told. It all seemed so strange. His description, his imagery, of You-Know-Who was nothing like she could have ever imagined. She realized quickly that the truths he told her, if they were that, were something that she may very well be one of only three people to fully understand.

The worst part of it was that it all made sense. It wasn't like there hadn't been countless rumors and articles about Alexander Avery. Deep down she'd known them. And she supposed it had struck her as odd that Harry would be hanging around the older man. Learning that it was one of You-Know-Who's final orders was for the man to protect Harry was revealing and sat wrong with her.

Because she knew they weren't evil. So much of her youth had been dominated by family members talking of the first war. And she'd witnessed some of the second. The Death Eaters were the boogeymen. The evil coalition that would murder you in your home. Everyone was terrified of them.

Well, everyone except for her grandmother. No matter what happened during the war, Farha Patel had waved off any threat against her and insisted she was never in any danger, no matter how many 'Mudblood' lives she saved in the hospital. Or how many times she helped anyone the Death Eaters disagreed with.

The rest of her rather large family always spoke of her with a hushed reverence because of it. And she was the reason Priya pursued medicine. She had nothing but respect for her grandmother's stern fortitude.

She'd gone back to England alone. And spent three days with her entire family. Three days shoved into her old bedroom with a cousin and a niece ten years her juniors. Three days of being chided about how her cousins were all already pregnant, married or engaged. Three days being told that she should put her education to better use. Three days being scolded because she thought she could turn oddball research in Japan into something that resembled a career. Three days of whispers that she was probably just being indecent with some boy rather than doing anything productive.

It was a trying vacation, even with how much she loved her family. And, toward the end of the second day, a soft voice rang through her head. A depressed young man reflecting on the memory that England had no longer felt like a home he could travel to. It was a statement that she never thought she'd really agree with. But the longer she stayed, the more she did.

Only her grandmother seemed able enough to tell something was wrong. She'd come back from Parvati's surprise baby shower on her second night back in London. It had been exhausting to keep a smile on her face and act like she cared. But she'd managed.

She'd stopped outside of the door to her bedroom when she'd heard the voices. The younger girls inside were busy giggling and gossiping about the cutest boys in school. Priya turned and walked back outside.

She found a muggle off-licence and wandered through it, having no idea what exactly drew her to the place except for the thought at the baby shower that it would have been a lot easier with a bottle or three of wine.

But the mass of wine that took up what seemed to be half of the store was too vast for her to contemplate. A young clerk approached her and asked if she needed any help as they were closing soon. Eventually that led her to some whisky and then back into London.

She thought she'd been quiet when she snuck back into the kitchen a few hours later. But she must have not been as stealthy as she thought, because before she'd finished pouring a splash of the amber liquor into a glass.

"Are you going to share any of that?" Farha Patel asked.

"I….thought I was the only one awake," Priya responded.

"I'm old," Farha said. "I wake easily."

"Sorry," Priya frowned. She shifted a little to hide the alcohol behind her, wondering if it would be worse to be caught with a hamburger or the alcohol.

"So, are you going to share any of that?" Farha asked again, nodding to the bottle Priya was failing to hide.

"Uhm…okay," Priya said, cautiously and she took down another glass and poured some of the whisky into it before handing it to Farha.

"Who's the boy?" Farha asked as she took it and drank it down with a far more experienced air than Priya would have expected.

"What? No one…I," Priya started. Farha took the bottle and refilled both their glasses.

"Who's the boy?" Farha asked again. Priya knew there was no way around it.

"Harry Potter," Priya admitted. Farha nearly snorted out her drink. She paused and stared at Priya, her eyes widening. Before she spoke she poured then each more alcohol.

"Tell me about him," Farha ordered. And Priya obeyed. She told her grandmother about her lover. She spoke of how they'd met, what they were doing, what they hoped to accomplish, and how she'd left him there alone for the remainder of the holiday.

She talked of, but mostly around, the revelations Harry had shared with her just days before. And her confusion and worry that she'd made a grave mistake. And that she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Farha didn't comment at all as she spoke. Instead she just poured more of the whisky until they'd had the whole bottle by the time the clock read three twenty six in the morning.

"Looks like you're smitten," Farha said. "I think you know exactly what you'll do. I've not heard much of him directly but some of my colleagues speak quite highly of him."

"He's-" Priya started. But then the alarm bells went off in her alcohol-addled brain. The response was wrong. Her grandmother hadn't reacted right, not like she was hearing some of the information presented the first time. She knew more than she let on. Priya thought she was a pretty smart cookie. And then it all clicked.

"You knew You-Know-Who," Priya accused, fear rising in her as she spoke. Could her Grandmother have been a Death Eater? Could the bravado during the war have come from something completely else. But Farha shook her head to deny the claim.

"I never met You-Know-Who," Farha admitted.

"But-" Priya started.

"I think it's time for bed, Priya," Farha said, ruffling her hair and taking her glass from her. She turned to the sink and rinsed both glasses and vanished the bottle. Priya frowned knew that her grandmother was probably right. She paused at the door though and turned back to her.

"What about Emily Price?" she asked. "Did you ever meet her?"

"Yes," Farha admitted, not turning to face her granddaughter. There was a melancholy in her tone. Enough of it that Priya knew she would not get any more answers that night.

So she went to bed. And she spent the next day wondering why no matter what she did, no matter what she thought about, and no matter what happened, her thoughts all went back to Harry Potter and how miserable she felt having left him all alone. And how she knew he secretly hated being alone. Even in their relative short time together she could tell he functioned much better with people around and retreated to himself when alone. And she'd left him alone. She'd abandoned him. Without as much as a good bye.

She knew he'd never forgive her. How could he? Other boyfriends had kicked her to the curb for far less than running away from them. If she'd been afraid of talking to him, afraid of answers to a question she'd asked, then she didn't deserve him. She thought, for a moment, that maybe it was simply time to stay in London and take the hospital job. But, by the end of the day, she'd taken the portkey back to Tokyo.

It had been too much to try to find him at Hiroshima or Nagasaki. She couldn't bring herself to go to their research sites without him. It was three more days of fidgeting and frowning and wondering just what she could possibly say before she finally found herself, without really even knowing how she got there, standing outside his Osaka home.

She'd frozen outside the door as she'd heard his voice coming. Moments later he and Avery appeared, coming up the hill outside the home. Avery had smirked and slipped away from Harry, walking by her without another word. Harry had simply paused and looked at her. His expression was completely unreadable as the sun fell behind him.

He'd said nothing and she'd felt the blush rise in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead she just stood there, feeling utterly helpless and confused and like she shouldn't be there.

And then he smiled and opened his arms.

She didn't remember moving. But she remembered being in his arms. She would always remember being in his arms.

She'd heard people talk about those little moments where suddenly, they knew. Where amazingly it all made sense. Where they understood what the rest of their life would be and for her that moment came when Harry's arms encircled her form.

That was when she knew she would never do better than Harry Potter.

He held her for a few minutes. And then he kissed her head softly and spoke. The words barely registering in her brain.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" he asked. Such an innocent, simple question. But that was all it took to tell her that she'd fretted over nothing and that everything would be alright. And that Harry Potter was most definitely hers.

"I do," she said, wishing for the first time in her life that the words had another context.

But then she was back in the present. He was staring at her from his tree, his brow furrowed.

"You okay there, babe?" he asked.

"What? Oh yeah, sorry, lost in my own head," Priya babbled.

"Frightening," Harry teased. Priya rolled her eyes.

"Less so than your head," she countered.

"Probably true," Harry responded with a smirk.

"So how do you want to start this?" Priya asked.

"Well, we agree that it seems the weakest around the shrine, right?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Priya nodded. "Well, at least in the radius. If you're not counting the fringes," Priya agreed.

"Let's take a walk back to the shrine and go from there," Harry said. He stood from his tree, helping Priya to her feet as he did. He cleaned up the picnic remnants and she stored them in her bag.

They walked together, holding hands the whole way, back down to the small Shinto shrine. They didn't talk on the walk down. Their best pupil, Hana, greeted them each with a hug and asked if there would be lessons that day. She was quite dejected when told no. Priya appeased her by letting her stay to watch, but only if she was quiet.

Harry sat in the grass behind the temple. He twirled his wand around his fingers as he looked around for a moment. Priya spent the time taking out a pen and pad and then sat a few feet away from him.

Harry closed his eyes and ran his wand over the grass, letting it slide back and forth between the blades. Priya could tell he was looking for something. But just what that something was he couldn't quite pinpoint. It continued for about ten minutes. Priya focused herself too, trying to sense any change in the environment around them.

"What's he doing?" Hana asked after growing bored with watching the adults do nothing.

"That isn't keeping quiet," Priya admonished. The girl crossed her arms in annoyance.

"But he's being boring," she whined.

"He needs to concentrate," Priya whispered.

"But," Hana started. But then Harry's eyes shot open and he stabbed his wand into the ground. Priya felt his magic flare out in distress. It was a skill they taught all healers. Magic, in many cases, would try to overcorrect in case of a magical injury. But it wouldn't always understand what it was doing. And healers sometimes had to be able to counter the victim as well as the curse.

"Harry," Priya gasped, lunging toward him. But he held up his free hand, palm up to her.

"I think," he spoke through grit teeth. She saw the muscles in his right arm starting to tense as they seemed to fight to push the wand further into the ground. "I think, I have something."

"You need help," she said, drawing her own wand.

"No. Observe. Take notes," Harry said, the words difficult to say. Priya put her pen to paper on instinct and the words flowed from her. She wrote about him to start with, how he was staring to perspire, how his eyes fought back tears, how his shoulders tensed, how his arm shook as it held onto his wand, and how his magic felt like it was clashing with the vast nothingness around them.

Then, she wrote about the chill that came. The grass around them started to frost as Harry continued. And, eventually, she felt the suppression grow. She felt it rise so that it surrounded everything, stronger than she'd felt it anywhere but the blast zone. She wrote about how it seemed to be all consuming and everywhere and was just constantly worsening.

And then she wrote about the warmth that flooded through her, the burst of power that surrounded her. The pen moved so quickly she did not have the time to think about what that meant.

Finally, she wrote of how Harry forced his right arm away from the dirt and into the air. It was shaking violently, like he couldn't possibly hold on any longer. He grunted with exertion as he slashed it up into the air. And with this wand came a tendril of greenish purple smoke. It floated around the tip as he held it there, his eyes wide.

"Help!" Hana yelped, a painful surprise in her voice. Both Harry and Priya's eyes shot to her only to discover that she was glowing, a soft pale light seeming to illuminate her skin. She touched one glowing arm with one glowing hand, her eyes wide and confused.

And then it was over.

In his surprise Harry dropped the wand, and with it the tendril of smoke. It slithered back into the earth and everything went back to how it had been moments before. Harry fell forward, resting on his left arm as he shook out the right.

"Are you okay?" Priya asked.

"I think so," Hana frowned, examining herself. "What was that?"

Harry and Priya didn't answer her. Instead their thoughts rushed back to the present. They both looked to the ground where his wand had been impaled just moments earlier. And then back at each other as they realized in near perfect unison what had just happened.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Chapter 7

"Harry," Priya spoke first, her wide dark eyes locking onto his as he looked up from the grass.

"Priya," Harry responded, just to say something.

"What happened?" Hana asked, still staring down at her skin in amazement. The coloration had returned to normal by then but the girl looked like she expected it to happen once again at any moment.

"You did it!" Priya exclaimed. In her excitement she threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. Harry kissed her back, still shaking from the effort of a few moments ago.

"What happened?" Hana screamed. Priya frowned against his lips before pulling herself away from him and turning to the girl.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I think so," Hana said

"Let me check," Priya said, taking out her wand. Harry watched as she struggled to cast basic diagnostic spells on the girl.

"Okay," Hana frowned as Priya's brow furrowed and she moved her wand slowly around the girl. It took all of ten seconds for her to get the information she was looking for.

"You seem fine," Priya said. "How do you feel?"

"I guess I feel normal. A little warm," Hana said. Priya placed the back of her hand on the girl's forehead and paused for a moment. Harry knew the magic would have already told her if she had a fever. But it was hard to trust magic around the atomic sites in Japan. And, as she'd told him many times, it never hurt to check in two different ways.

"And before, when you were glowing, how did you feel then?" Harry asked. Priya glared at him as if she didn't want her examination interrupted. But she lowered her hand from the Hana's head and didn't comment.

"I don't know," Hana said. "I guess I felt…I don't know."

"Try to describe it as best you can. You can use Japanese if that will help," Priya said.

"But Mister Potter doesn't speak Japanese," Hana said.

"Hey, I'm working on it," Harry scoffed.

"I do, though," Priya smiled. "I can translate for the dum-dum if need be."

"Okay. I guess I wasn't really thinking about it. I was watching Mister Potter and he was being all boring. But then suddenly I felt. I don't know, just amazing. And whole I guess? Like something that was gone came back. But I don't know what. And then I looked down and I was glowing and I got scared," Hana said, sticking to English.

"I see," Priya said.

"Is it bad?" Hana asked.

"No," Harry said.

"Quite the contrary," Priya said. "I think we just had a major breakthrough."

"Huh?" Hana asked.

"You know what we're doing, right?" Priya asked.

"Trying to fix things," Hana answered without hesitation. Harry frowned at the explanation. It wasn't technically wrong, sure. But he doubted the girl really had any idea just what he and Priya were trying to do.

"Yes," Priya said. "And when Harry took whatever that was out of the ground, the magic swelled through it and was everywhere. I felt it too."

"You didn't start glowing," Hana frowned. "Am I a freak?"

"No," Harry said firmly before Priya had a chance to even compute the word. "You're a bright and talented young girl."

"Then why?" Hana frowned.

"What you felt was the magic returning. I can't say for sure but I think it probably focused a little bit more on you. That warmth, that feeling of being whole? That's your body acknowledging the magic. There was probably too much of it for you so it vented off in the form of the glow. I've actually had something sort of similar happen before. But, that's what Priya and I feel like whenever we leave here," Harry admitted.

"Do you glow when you leave here?" Hana asked.

"No," Priya said. "But that's just because we've lived with it our entire lives. We understand it. We know how to control it."

"I see," Hana frowned. "It did sort of feel like I could do anything when it happened. It was pretty amazing."

"I know the feeling," Harry said, smiling. "The first time I really did magic I felt like I could accomplish anything in that instant too. Like a whole new world opened up. It was a liberating feeling."

"Can I ask a question?" Hana asked, ignoring the fact that she'd already asked a few. Harry suspected that meant she was going to ask something far more personal than she had to that point.

"Of course," Priya said warmly.

"If you feel like that when you leave here…then why do you even bother staying here?" Hana frowned. Harry could see the wheels spinning in her head, wondering if she would do the same thing had she known another way. And the worry that she might be losing her teachers to a world she couldn't understand.

"Priya's here," Harry said, flippantly, biting his tongue as soon as it slipped out. Sometimes there was more truth in his snark than he cared to admit. And, given that she swatted him on the arm in response, he suspected she thought it was merely a joke. But, it wasn't. While he'd always been interested in the nuclear sites, he knew that he'd have grown bored and left a while ago if not for Priya Patel.

"Because we're doing work that we think needs to be done," Priya said. "And if we succeed it will be a great boon for both the Japanese and the entire world. We're pushing bounds of magic that people haven't ever really explored before and, even if it takes smarter minds than us a century or two from now, we're laying the ground work for fields of magic that aren't really even understood at this point."

"Oh," Hana responded. She stared at Priya as if she were speaking in tongues. But, before either of them could comment further, another person spoke from down the path.

"What did you do?" Alexander Avery asked. Harry turned and peered at his traveling companion. He was walking down the path behind the shrine, holding hands with a Japanese woman a few years older than Harry.

"Harry took some of the radiation out of the land," Priya said.

"What?" Avery laughed. "I thought that wasn't possible."

"It wasn't," Priya said.

"Ah," Avery responded, his eyes shifting from Priya and to Harry and a smirk forming on his lips.

"What brought you here?" Harry asked.

"Fumiko and I were out for a walk on her day off. I felt the magic flare from over here and given that, well, magic doesn't flare around Nagasaki, I figured it was worth investigating," Avery explained.

"I felt it too," Fumiko said.

"And given that you ruined our date by distracting us, you're going to owe me something for that. I had a reservation we won't be able to keep now," Avery said.

"Just what am I going to owe you?" Harry laughed.

"A story, I think," Fumiko said. Harry gazed at the woman for a minute. He didn't know her that well, although he knew that she and Avery had been growing closer since the previous Christmas. She was rather pretty and was clinging affectionately to Avery's arm. He wondered just what she knew and what Avery had left a secret. In truth, he found himself rather uncomfortable around Avery's paramour. But he wasn't going to say anything, as he was sure Avery felt uncomfortable around Priya.

"I think that can be arranged," Harry said.

"Good," Fumiko smiled. "Then let's go back to the house and I'll make some yakitori and we can talk about it."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Harry said. Avery just glared at him.

"I think it's a fantastic idea," the older man said. His tone gave every indication that it wasn't up for discussion.

"Fine," Harry said.

"What about me?" Hana asked.

"We should walk you home," Priya said to Hana. "We can meet you back at the house in an hour or so."

"That will give me plenty of time to start cooking," Fumiko said with a smile. "The kitchen does not get nearly enough use for the amount of effort that went into remodeling it."

"Great. We'll see you then," Priya responded with as much of a smile as she held her hand down toward Hana. The girl took it after a moment's hesitation and then they proceeded to follow the path back to the shrine, and eventually Hana's home.

Hana kept their minds occupied with inane conversation as they walked. Harry barely registered any of it. He was too lost in his own thoughts of what just happened, and what he'd tell Avery, to pay attention to the girl. Priya kept her occupied until they dropped her at home, exchanging brief pleasantries with her parents before they left.

It wasn't until they were on their way to a safe spot to portkey that Priya spoke.

"You don't like Fumiko, do you?" she asked.

"I don't have an opinion of Fumiko," Harry said.

"Well you could have been nicer. She's just trying to be friendly," Priya said.

"I don't like strangers knowing much about me. I tend to value my secrecy. And it's only compounded if I don't think they'll be around long," Harry said.

"Why is that?" Priya asked.

"Avery tends to find someone similar every place we stop," Harry shrugged.

"And you don't?" Priya snapped.

"Of course not," Harry lied, surprised at how defensive his tone became.

"You're a bad liar," Priya said. "I don't care what you did years ago. But people change. I'm sure you realize that. And Avery loves her. He's going to ask her to marry him when he works up the courage."

"What?" Harry laughed.

"Is it that weird of a thought to you?" Priya asked.

"Well I just…How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"You know how on weekends I wake you up and you mumble about five more minutes of sleep and then go right back to bed for another two hours?" Priya said.

"Yes," Harry responded.

"Well, sometimes Avery and I talk while you sleep," Priya said.

"How devious," Harry joked.

"I know," Priya said.

"Anyway, how did this come up?" Harry asked.

"Well, he told me how much he loved her. I think he just needed to talk to someone who would listen. And he told me how shortly after Christmas he overheard some school boys teasing her. She's too good of a clerk to say anything to them, or acknowledge that she heard them," Priya started.

"What were they saying?" Harry asked.

"They were calling her Christmas cake in their conversations with each other," Priya said.

"I don't get it," Harry commented.

"Either did he. He was doing his normal shopping. They'd flirted some and gone out once or twice but he didn't think she was really that interested in him. After the boys left the shop he decided to just ask her about it and she told him," Priya said.

"And?" Harry said.

"They have cakes on Christmas here. Apparently they're these little whipped cream and strawberry things. And there's a general idea, I guess, for lack of a better word. They're sweet, pretty, tasty, and no one could possibly want them after the twenty-fifth," Priya said.

"Ah," Harry responded as it clicked in his head. "So, Avery, who was smitten with her. Probably went on about how he didn't care how old she was and that those boys were idiots and if she would have him he'd be honored."

"Over the course of a few months, I imagine," Priya said.

"I'm surprised he didn't talk to me about it," Harry frowned.

"Well in his defense I've kept you rather busy," Priya smirked at him. "And he wants to but isn't sure how to broach the subject. He thinks you'll think he's abandoning you or failing you or something. It's complicated and he didn't explain it properly."

"It is complicated," Harry agreed, sensing Priya's annoyance when he didn't fully explain it. But figuring she could live with that lack of knowledge for now.

"So yeah, in short, you should make more of an effort. She's not another one to him. And she's really incredibly kind. So be nice over dinner," Priya ordered.

"Yes mum," Harry responded.

"Gross," Priya made a face.

"One more thing though," Harry said as he dug into his pocket for their return portkey. They were enough out of sight that it would be safe to return home without being noticed.

"What's that?" Priya asked.

"How old are you again?" Harry narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her as best he could as he said it. The stinging slap was drowned out by the whoosh of the portkey. Still, she squeezed his hand lovingly as they landed in Osaka.

"So, just what did you do?" Avery asked as they stepped into the kitchen.

"At least let me pop open a bottle of wine first," Harry said. Avery was seated at one of the bar stools while Fumiko cooked. They'd appeared to be in mid conversation as Harry and Priya entered. But Avery dropped it and turned his attention to Harry.

"I can do that," Fumiko said an eager helpfulness in her tone.

"I got it," Harry responded. He gave her a warm smile though as she turned toward both him and the refrigerator. She flushed slightly but nodded.

"Okay," Fumiko said. Harry frowned for a moment and wondered if he should have just let her do it. But she busied herself with preparing the chicken while he hoped the smile was good enough to indicate he'd be more open in the coming days.

"Everyone want a glass?" Harry asked.

"Please," Avery said.

"If you wouldn't mind," Fumiko said.

"Of course not," Harry said. He took a bottle of white from the refrigerator and summoned four glasses. He sent two over toward the dining bar where Priya had joined Avery.

"Thanks babe," Priya said as she stretched on the barstool. Harry sent the third glass to the counter next to Fumiko. He walked over by her and peered at the cooking. She tensed as he approached and Harry raised his brows, wondering both how much of a dick he'd been without noticing and just what Avery had told her about him.

"Need a hand with anything? I'm an excellent kitchen bitch," Harry said.

"No I…..actually if you wouldn't mind chopping those vegetables so I can stir fry them," she said.

"Sure thing," Harry responded. He grabbed a knife from the block and proceeded to do just that. Fumiko glanced at his work for a moment but must have decided it was passable as she didn't comment further.

"Well you now have wine. Tell us what happened. Because I haven't sensed magic like that since we were in Canada. And I'm almost certain that magic like that isn't supposed to occur here. It wouldn't shock me if some local officials investigated," Avery said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry responded. "Priya and I were just out on a hike. It was just as surprising to us as it was to them."

"That might get you off the hook with the government the first time. But if you continue doing it, you know they'll just come in force," Avery said.

"Which would be a mild annoyance," Harry admitted.

"So?" Avery asked for the third time.

"Priya and I had a bit of a breakthrough," Harry said. "A stray idea of sorts. We figured what if trying to infuse magic isn't working? How about we instead take out the radiation."

"There's about twenty magical theory papers that say that's impossible," Avery said.

"Well they weren't researched by Harry Potter," Harry responded.

"So, you tried it with no real clue of what would happen?" Avery asked.

"Well, I mean that's unfair. I assumed it wouldn't work and that it would be exactly like those papers you referenced. And it was, for a moment. But then I latched onto something. It fought me. Like a sort of long root that never wants to pull up. But eventually I got it out," Harry said.

"When he did, we noticed Hana, our student at the shrine, was glowing with excess magic," Priya interjected.

"And when I saw that it startled me and I dropped it and it shot back into the land and everything went back to how it was," Harry finished.

"You got it out?" Avery asked.

"For about three seconds," Harry said.

"They're going to investigate that for sure," Avery responded.

"Only if they sensed it," Harry said. "And given their general lack of interest in these areas for the last two decades I highly doubt that they have any idea."

"I hope so," Avery said.

"Why would you not want them to know?" Fumiko asked.

"We are of the opinion that they won't be overly happy with us succeeding where they failed," Harry said.

"That's absurd," Fumiko frowned. "It would be gigantic gift."

"Harry's had very negative experiences with governments," Avery said. "He tends to be a bit of a pessimist about it."

"You're the one that brought it up," Harry said.

"Well, I don't think you're completely off base. I think that they let us work and explore because they think your efforts will be utterly futile. And they like having you here because there's some prestige to being able to comment that Harry Potter must love Japan because he's stayed for so long. But as soon as there's any reported success I think they'll try to take over," Avery said.

"Why?" Fumiko asked.

"Because they'll want it to be a Japanese accomplishment and not an English one. If Priya and I succeed it would just prove that they didn't try hard enough. They'll try to take some credit regardless," Harry said.

"Surely they'd notice though," Fumiko said.

"We thought any progress we made would be more gradual," Priya said.

"And it was until today," Harry said.

"So, our assumption was that eventually the magic would be restored and people just sort of just ease into it. Not that it would be a massive big thing. Ideally, we wanted to be able to just fade away and publish the research after it was done," Priya said.

"And mostly I dislike attention," Harry said.

"I see," Fumiko said. "I really do think what you two are trying to do is commendable."

"I think that chicken smells commendable," Priya said.

"Ha ha," Fumiko chuckled as she finished their food and started to serve it. The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that as the two couples talked and drank for most of the night. Harry spent the vast majority of the time chatting with Fumiko about nothing in particular until she and Avery retired for the evening.

And he was unsurprised to find that Priya had been right. Even in just a few hours of talking about nothing in particular he could tell the woman was nothing but kind and thoughtful. Every sentence out of her was earnest and it was obvious she was simply a good, kind, person.

Harry couldn't help but wonder just what the hell Avery had done to get her to have any interest in him. But that would be a story for another time.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Priya teased as the other two left.

"Well, you were right about her," Harry said.

"Duh," Priya responded, sliding her arms around him and kissing him softly.

"I know, I know. I should have just assumed that from the get go," Harry said.

"At least you're learning," Priya smirked, letting her lips trail around to his neck. "Bedtime?"

"Sounds lovely," Harry sighed. He let her trace her lips around his skin for a few moments. He held her against himself as he did, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. But after a few moments he simply lifted her up and carried her to their bedroom.

They took a few days off after. Avery was right, the Japanese ministry had come poking around and they all figured it would be better if they spent some time seeming more like tourists than they were.

It made Harry a little antsy at first, but Avery and Priya did most of the talking, seeming to sense that it was best to keep Harry away from any ministry officials. Which he knew was for the best but still found it to be annoying.

They ended that reprieve with a double date. The first time they'd done something remotely like that. The waiter had assumed they were a family and they'd joked about that for a few moments before simply having a nice meal and returning home for more wine and conversation.

Eventually, the topic turned to group brainstorming of what Harry and Priya planned on attempting next. But that just had the effect of making Harry more eager to try things and annoyed him that he'd agreed to wait it out.

Harry wasn't big on acquiescing to governmental authority. Which just meant that every single moment where he wasn't working because of it caused him to want to work more purely to stick it to the government. Thankfully, it wasn't that difficult for Priya to distract him.

By the start of the next week, though, they figured that the commotion had died down enough to resume working. Harry and Priya spent the better part of Sunday mapping out just what they wanted to try in Hiroshima and just where they wanted to try it.

Priya woke him up early on Monday morning with a kiss before she slipped off to shower. He rolled over, groaned, closed his eyes for about twenty seconds, before getting up and walking to the bathroom. He wrapped a towel around her as she stepped out of the shower and stepped into the warm water as she dried off.

By the time he stepped out she was gone. He went through his morning routine and found her in the kitchen doing what looked like attempting to scramble eggs. There was not an open flame or smoke as of yet, but Harry figured it was best to err on the side of caution. He stepped next to her to observe and she responded by elbowing him in the ribs. He made a courageous retreat to the dining bar.

The eggs were fine when she served them, but so was almost any food that one didn't make oneself. They ate quietly at the dining bar until it was time to go to work.

They followed the familiar paths in Nagasaki, returning to the site they'd last visited with Hana just days before. Harry paced around it, looking for something he couldn't even start to describe while Priya watched him.

He found it, again, the taint in the earth. And again, he ripped it from the earth. But the results were the same. He couldn't contain it, hold it, destroy it, anything. And moments later it fled from him and back to the ground.

He knew it was wrong to think of it like a conscious entity that was fleeing from him. But he couldn't get that thought out of his head.

The days continued much like that. And, as the time wound down, it wound uppassed, their efforts were entirely in vain, bringing nothing being nothing more than failure after failure. And it continued for days, weeks, and then months.

It was exhausting. It strained his relationship with Priya. It strained his relationship with Avery. Constant failure put everyone on edge. It was made worse by the fact that their other ideas had garnered some success. Yes, it had been rather limited, but it had been success nonetheless.

And instead now it was just failure after failure. And it was entirely Harry's fault. Priya was too nice to say that to his face, but he could tell, daily, just by her expression, how disappointed she was with their new-found efforts.

Harry hated failure. It reminded him far too much of his time at the Dursleys', when he was constantly berated as a failure even when he'd done nothing wrong. Actually failing just brought back those memories and irritated him no end.

So, he spent the afternoon of his day off wandering through the woods of Nagasaki. Priya and Fumiko went dress shopping in the morning so he and Avery had gone to lunch mostly just to kill time. After that Avery met up with his now fiancée to go over some more wedding planning.

Priya hadn't been interested in doing anything that afternoon, so rather than sit around the house drinking he'd gone for a walk. They'd fought a little bit about it. They both knew that they weren't really fighting though, but rather just letting their frustrations boil over into their words.

He knew, though, that no matter what he did he was in for a rough night. They'd be fine in a day or two, especially if they took another day or so off work. But he knew there was a very cold shoulder waiting for him at home.

He sat in the middle of the forest, staring around at the trees and trying to center himself. It didn't matter. His annoyance of the entire situation was just causing the frustration to grow even more in his own mind.

Everything they'd tried had failed. They couldn't contain it at all once it had been removed from the land. They couldn't store it, fight it, purify it, anything. They could get it out, sure, but that was the end of it. They'd filled up about six notebooks with the methods they'd tried. To the point where Harry was convinced they were trying the same things over and over again for want of any new ideas.

An hour or so passed as he sat and thought. As per usual, he came up with absolutely nothing of use. But, at the very least, he realized that he wasn't going to come up with some sort of eureka moment that solved all of their problems. At least not on the eighth of March that year.

Maybe Priya was right, he thought as he rose to his feet. Maybe they should just go back to what they were doing. Or just take a few weeks off. Could it really hurt to help Avery and Fumiko with the wedding and just enjoy themselves for a while?

"Just giving up that easily?" a soft voice said. Harry spun around and saw a pretty brunette leaning against a tree. She wore a black dress, short black boots, and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"You're not really here," he said.

"I'm always here," she scoffed. "It's my curse. You're dreadfully boring. Too much sex, not enough productivity."

"Well go whine about your curse elsewhere," Harry said. "I don't recall asking for your advice."

"You ask for it all the time. I usually ignore you out of spite," she said.

"You're not helping," Harry said. "And I'm not going to argue with myself."

"Too late for that, isn't it?" she teased.

"Just shut up," Harry said.

"No. It's more fun to pester you about being an incompetent failure," she said.

"I am neither of those things," Harry responded.

"You are both of those things," she countered.

"I am not having this conversation," Harry said.

"It's not really a conversation, given that one of us isn't here," she said. "Anyway, she wouldn't have given up."

"No, you just left the country when Burke told you to," Harry said.

" _I_ did no such thing. _She_ was not trying to fix the country," she said. "Her leaving cannot be considered a failure."

"Doing nothing is always a failure," Harry said.

"And given that you've done nothing just proves that you are a failure," she said. Harry slashed his hand at her and the tree exploded around her, smoke rising from the forest a moment later.

"Sophist," he scoffed.

"Get it all out of your system?" she said from another tree.

"No," he said, destroying that tree as well.

"Such a child," she scoffed.

"Just shut up," Harry said.

"Too stupid to even notice the obvious," she said.

"Just tell me what you're getting at," Harry sighed.

"I thought you didn't want my help," she said.

"If I could kill you," Harry started.

"You have," she scoffed.

"I killed _her_ not _you,_ "Harry said.

"Oh, so you get to be the pedantic one now?" she said.

"If the shoe fits," Harry shrugged.

"You are missing the obvious difference," she said.

"And what's that," Harry asked.

"Magic," she said.

"Magic?" Harry laughed.

"Magic," she said again. "You have it. Nothing else does."

"Some things do," Harry countered.

"Do they, though?" She asked.

"Of course they do," Harry laughed. "That's obvious."

"Is it?" she asked.

"There's still magic here," Harry said, spreading his arms to indicate as much around him as he could. "There's still magic everywhere. There are still magical communities. Magical people. Magic in the air. Magic in the very fabric of the land."

"Just not here," she said, pointing to the ground with her brows raised.

"Exactly," Harry said.

"Now you're just fibbing. And if you're going to lie to yourself there's no reason for me to be here," she said as she faded away. "Just keep failing, like the failure you are."

"I am not a failure," Harry said through grit teeth, feeling the anger rise into him, feeling his magic rise into him. And then there was something he hadn't noticed before. A pull on him coming from below him. It was slight, but it was there. He paused and stared at the ground.

"Then prove it," she whispered into his head. And his rage flared again. The thought of failure reverberating through his head as something tugged on him once more.

He let it pull him to his knees, the palm of his right hand landing flat on the soil. He closed his eyes and concentrated through the rage. He made no attempt to calm himself as the pull wrapped around his hand.

He knew nothing was actually encircling his hand. But he could still feel it, tugging at his very being. He focused on it, marveling in the sensation, letting it do as it would for a moment. And it was just a single moment before it all clicked.

Magic needed magic. Magic fed off of magic. Magic powered magic. Magic was magic. What they were fighting wasn't magic. But a part of it, wanted nothing more than to be with magic.

So, he thought to himself as he forced his hand deeper into the dirt, be with magic.

"Harry?" a voice gasped from behind him, but he ignored it, not wanting to be taunted any more that afternoon.

Instead he focused his magic down into his hand, he felt it billow out and he felt foreign pull flock to it. He could feel it from everywhere. He could feel it all around Nagasaki. He could feel it from even further than that. It surrounded his entire psyche. It swarmed him.

But it didn't stop him. He couldn't tell if it wanted to stop him or if it merely wanted more. So he forced more power into his hand. He kept the magic flowing through him as he did. And soon it was all that he could possibly focus on.

More. The only thought he had was that he needed more power. He focused on more and more power. He pushed more and more magic into the land. He could sense that it didn't do anything. That the power there just smothered it immediately. But the more he pushed, the more came. And he could feel it swarming to him from miles away.

He forced open his eyes to stare at the earth, to see if there was any change in the dirt around him. It all looked the same. But he just continued to focus on the magic. To push everything he had into the dirt. To use all of the magic he'd been gifted with. He could feel it radiating from himself.

And soon flares of red and gold shot from his body, the excess that he couldn't focus into his hand burning off around him. And then he could see flashes of purple and black from the earth, slashing at the flares of his magic, engulfing them.

He focused with everything he had, the entire world blacking out around him and soon all he could see was the dirt his hand was buried in as he continued to force his magic outward. Somehow he knew it was almost time. He could feel the same things he'd ripped from the earth swarming to him. He could feel them coming from as far as Hiroshima, all drawn by the power they were desperate for. And he was more than willing to provide.

"Harry, what are you doing?" the voice said from behind. He didn't turn to face her. He couldn't turn to face her. He focused on the energy he felt swarming him. More and more seemed to be pooling in his hand with each passing moment. He could feel it weighing him down, rooting him into the spot.

That thought should have concerned him. But he pushed it from his mind and continued to focus on the energy coming to him.

And then it just stopped. He stared down at his hand, now buried up to the wrist in the earth. It wasn't worth wondering just how that changed. He tried to pull his hand from the ground, but it wouldn't budge. His entire arm tensed as he pulled, the magic still radiating off of him as he tried to remove himself from the land. But still his hand didn't budge.

He closed his eyes again and focused once more. This time he didn't reply purely on physical strength. Instead he used his magic to pull upward, fighting for every inch as he moved.

It felt like he was tearing the country, no, the very planet apart as he did. When he opened his eyes and focused once more on his hand he was shocked that some type of fissure wasn't cracking out around him.

Every inch his hand moved felt more exhausting than anything he'd ever attempted before. He was struggling to keep his eyes open as sweat pooled on his brow. He'd started panting with the effort at some point.

But still he struggled on. He had to free his hand. He knew that in it lay the source of all of his troubles, the source of all of his failures. He could hear every insult the Dursley's had hurled his way on his years of Privet drive as they rang through his head. He could hear every schoolyard taunt of Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin lackies. Snape joined in, talking about how he was just as pathetic as his father. And then Umbridge, about how he was a mad liar only interested in his own fame.

One common theme reverberated through all of their insults. That he was nothing but a failure. A weak, hopeless fool that would never amount to anything or accomplish anything. That he was absolutely nothing.

The words ripped through him and his hand sunk back into the earth, being pulled by the force he didn't fully understand. And he let it pull him, because he was weak. Because he was nothing.

No. Fuck that, he thought. You're all failures. You've accomplished nothing. What I have, I've earned.

His hand slid toward freedom as his thoughts shifted. He was the only one that could do this. Everyone else has failed. Everyone else was too weak. But he would not be. He would succeed where everyone else failed. And he'd do it purely because he could. To show that he could. To show them all how much better he was.

He knew he was screaming, he could feel it in his lungs even if he couldn't hear it. He fought against it as he pulled and pulled and pulled and then, almost as if there was nothing there, his hand broke free of the surface.

He rose up on his knees and stared as remnants of dirt fell off of his skin. He turned his hand over and held it, palm to the sky, as a misty-purple orb floated just out of his reach. It was desperate to return to the ground, but, for the moment, he had control of it.

This wasn't new though, he frowned to himself. This had happened before. Never quite this powerful, never to the point where he could sense the oppression so close to himself, so encompassing to the area around him. But it had still happened before.

And it didn't matter. Because he couldn't stop it from fleeing. As it would in moments.

But what had she said? Something about magic? It needed magic? It lusted for magic? So it went to where magic was the most intrinsic, into the land itself. Back to the magic there, to steal the magic from everything else. To sap it away for eternity.

That was problematic though, and quite contrary to his goals. Despite that, he couldn't think of anything that would actually help him. And the ball of purple that floated above his hand was getting harder to control.

It was actively fighting him, trying to get back to the ground, to get back to what it must have considered safety. It was strong enough to pull his arm when it moved. He tensed and fought to keep it above ground.

He knew he'd only have any semblance of control over it for a few more moments. And he still had nothing that remotely resembled a plan to take care of it. He chuckled to himself for a moment. The small action seemed to reverberate through him completely, causing a slight ache in his ribs as the noise escaped him. Priya always told him he needed to think more about what he was doing rather than just acting.

He'd shrugged off her comments. Thinking hadn't ever worked out as well as winging it. But now he had no idea what the next step should be. He stared at the glowing orb in his hand, his mind rattling through every possible solution to his present problem.

It needed magic. That thought rang through his head. Whatever exactly it was, whatever residue came from the bombs, whatever sentience it had, it needed magic. So it had found magic. And taken it from the area.

So he needed to distract it, to get it magic. But where could he get enough of it to warrant not fleeing?

The solution surprised him. He could only think of one thing that would even have a chance. He stared down at the orb in his hand and his lips turned up in a smirk.

"You want magic?" he growled at the orb. "Then have it." and then he pushed the orb into his chest.

His world exploded. His vision flashed in and out of focus and he fell onto his knees ashe felt a pain far worse than any curse he'd ever experienced raked through his body. He could feel that he was screaming deep in his throat but he couldn't hear any noise.

He could feel it tearing through him. He could feel it everywhere around him. He could tell it was destroying him. But he couldn't do much more than let it and writhe. For a moment he could have sworn someone was yelling, panicking, behind him. He felt every muscle tear and every bone break as it encompassed his entire body.

And then, finally, as his vision blurred to black, he could feel his heart stopping.

The locals would talk about the eighth of March for years. Never before had so many strange things occurred at once. Most thought it was simply a hoax and that the stories were all made up.

Afterall, some of them sounded so obviously fabricated that it didn't matter how many people think they saw something. It started with an explosion, or what many thought was one. Thousands reported hearing something akin to a blast, even feeling something akin to a blast in the area around Nagasaki. But there was no physical evidence of such an event occurring.

Then there were the scores of students who reported that some of their classmates started glowing. Some of them insisting that it lasted for a few hours. But, by the time anyone managed to investigate properly there were no signs of it. So, it was easily dismissed as a trick of the light.

There were other oddities as well. A young man in Hiroshima spent the morning dreading cleaning up the restaurant he worked at after a night of too much alcohol with friends, only to discover that the kitchen was absolutely pristine when he entered work in the early afternoon. He assumed the night shift must have stayed late to clean, something they so very rarely did.

A young girl who ran into the middle of a street in Nagasaki as she chased after a ball. A speeding car drove straight through her, quite literally. The driver slammed on his breaks and jumped out to investigate, only to find a clueless young girl walking to the curb with her ball. The driver thought it must have been his imagination acting up. What other explanation could there be?

There were also two students who suffered severe burns to their hands and wrists. They claim a younger student did it to them, one they were known to bully. But there was no actual evidence of it. Still, the wounds were very severe and there had to be an explanation for them, but none that anyone could think of.

And there was the shop girl in Nagasaki who was habitually harassed by some local boys. They'd sneak into the shop after her European beau would wander off and tease her where they knew she had no real recourse. On March Eighth, though, they ran out almost as soon as they entered, hands at their throats.

Three days later they claimed that the girl had cursed them. But everyone knew how irrationally stupid that was.

Cases like that flashed through the news for the following week. Every day it was something different, something unexplained, something as simple as someone supposedly flying, to darker things like unexplained injuries or deaths.

But it only lasted a week. After that everything seemed to return to normal.

When Harry opened his eyes two women leaned over him. One was pretty in a take-home-to-mum sort of way. Her dark chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her dark eyes looked bored with the entire situation and her arms were crossed over her chest.

The other was a far more exotic beauty. She too had dark eyes and hair, but her hair was closer to black than brown and it was done back in an elaborate braid. She had coppery skin and looked frantic, a rather stark contrast from her brunette companion.

She kneeled on the ground next to him and was slashing her wand over him, repeatedly casting spells. Harry groaned and held up a hand.

"I'm okay," he said.

"No you're not you're…you're..you idiot what did you do I can barely feel your magic. You're hardly even here!" Priya said as she continued to work. Harry sat up. It took more effort than he would like to admit.

His eyes shifted from Priya to the brunette. He opened his mouth, but no words came. The other woman simply gave him a one-dimpled smirk before fading completely away. He turned his gaze back to Priya.

"I'm fine," he said. His head was fuzzy, like he'd spent the last few days drinking. Everything seemed a little hazy as he looked around. Priya pressed her hand to his forehead.

"What did you do," she asked.

"I found a place for it to go," Harry coughed.

"You're insane," she said.

"And you're doing magic," Harry responded.

"Of course I am," Priya scoffed. "Had to makes sure you didn't kill yourself."

"Lots of magic, in quick succession," Harry amended. His ribs hurt when he spoke. He winced. Priya noticed and immediately cast a diagnostic spell and then healed one of his ribs with a flick of her wrist, causing Harry to wince once more.

"And?" Priya asked as she cast another diagnostic on him.

"Don't you feel it in the air?" Harry asked. Priya paused for a moment and raised her brows at him. Then her eyes went wide.

"Oh Gods," she whispered. And then, a moment later, her arms flew around his neck and her lips met his. Harry kissed her as well as he was able before murmuring against her lips.

"Ow," he intoned.

"Oh. Sorry," she whispered. Then turned her eyes on him. "You did it."

"We did it," he countered, still holding her.

"I didn't do anything," she frowned.

"Bullshit," he said. "All I did was the grunt work. The theory, that was all you."

"I guess," she said, sounding rather unsure of herself. It was Harry's turn to kiss her.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said as Priya melted against him.

"I don't know if that's true," she said after a moment.

"I do," Harry said. Priya was quiet for a moment before a question bubbled to the surface.

"You took it into you," she said, frowning. "Can you…?" Harry knew what she was getting at without her finishing the sentence. He paused. He didn't feel any different. But he wasn't positive.

He slid one arm from her and raised his hand to a nearby tree, intending to reach out and pluck some of the leaves with a summoning charm. It was simple magic he'd performed thousands of times before. But when he called for it, nothing came.

His stomach dropped. He stared at the tree, feeling the fear rise into him, feeling the doubt fill him, wondering if his sacrifice would be worth it. Hell, wondering exactly what his sacrifice entailed.

But something scoffed in his head, as if he was being silly and foolish. Something inside his mind told him to try again but to actually put some effort into it. His fingers stretched toward the tree and again, nothing happened.

He tried for a third time, focusing on the branch, willing it to him. And on the third attempt it listened. The branch that held the leaves he was interested in snapped from the tree and flew into his hand, impacting with a hard crash.

"Ouch," Harry said.

"That seemed excessive," Priya responded.

"It was. But I can still do magic," Harry said. His mind wandering to just what that entailed.

"That shouldn't be possible," Priya frowned.

"And yet here we are," Harry said.

"Story of your life, eh?" Priya chuckled.

"You could say that," Harry smiled.

"What do we do now?" she asked, sounding lost.

"Well, we still have papers to publish," Harry said.

"And to see just what happened, I suppose," Priya said.

"And I should probably tell Avery," Harry said.

"Honestly, you should probably get some rest too, you look like hell," Priya said.

"I do feel utterly spent," Harry agreed. Priya stood and helped him to his feet.

"Shall I?" she asked. Harry just nodded and closed his eyes as she apparated them back to Osaka.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Chapter 8

"I take it back," Emily said. She was draped across one of the more comfortable chairs in his office, peering more out the window behind him than at him as he spoke as if there was something fascinating in the dark sky behind him.

"What's that?" Harry asked. It was the first time she'd interrupted his story. She hadn't seemed that interested in his conversations with the horcrux, if talking to his own head can be called a conversation. Nor had she seemed very interested in his Japanese exploits. She'd perked up the most at the talk of Fumiko and Priya.

"I do think you are an idiot," she said. She slid off the side of the chair and to her feet before walking straight to the disillusioned cabinet where he'd kept the alcohol he didn't want normal visitors to notice. He should have known that such charms wouldn't have fooled Lord Voldemort.

More worryingly, though, was her rather sudden increased interest in alcohol. He searched through his memories of her memories, trying to remember if she ever drank that much in the past. But the most he could remember was her curled up with wine after Martin's death. Or an occasional drink when out.

"And why's that?" Harry asked as she rifled through the bottles.

"Don't you have anything Muggle?" she frowned.

"There should be a twenty-one year-," he started.

"Found it," she said. She plucked one of his ever-frozen circular ice balls from a bucket inside the cabinet and tossed it into one of the glasses. She then proceeded to fill it halfway up with the whisky. Harry frowned as she took a rather large first gulp. He wasn't sure if he should be annoyed that she hadn't offered to make him one or not.

"I'm surprised you prefer Muggle alcohol," Harry said.

"It gets the job done better," she said with a shrug.

"They get the job done exactly the same," Harry countered.

"Your opinion," Emily said.

"It's a fact," Harry countered. Emily narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. She walked deliberately back to the chair, glass in one hand, bottle in the other.

"The magical stuff tends to lack the feeling of actual alcohol. Too many charms and potions and other additives. Too interested in being a magical version of something. And too busy hiding what it really is," Emily said. She took another large sip of whisky.

It wasn't a relatively new opinion. Although it was one he'd heard mostly from Muggleborn alcoholics. And one that was based on absurd placebos more than any tangible fact. But it could be a problem, so he made a note of it and tried to steer the conversation away from her budding alcoholism.

"You were commenting on my intelligence," he said.

"Well you were being an idiot, so it seemed fitting," Emily said. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you."

"So, you figured it out?" Harry asked, his brows raised.

"Of course I did," Emily scoffed. "I am a rather intelligent woman you know."

"I know," Harry said. He eyed her carefully as she continued to drink.

"Still, I am curious as to how you cocked it all up," Emily said.

"What?" Harry blinked.

"You know, the beautiful Indian Healer who was obviously head over heels for you. I've been here long enough to know that if you two were still a thing, I'd have seen her by now," Emily said. "Hell, I'd have probably gotten my instructions and potion regimen from her and not her grandmother."

"That wasn't what I meant," Harry said.

"I know," Emily said. "But it was by far the most interesting part of your story."

"But the least important," Harry said.

"That's certainly debatable," Emily countered.

"I don't think so," Harry said.

"Really?" Emily said.

"Compared to everything else? I would doubt my love life winds up being much more than a footnote in history," Harry said.

"You don't read many biographies if you think that's the case," Emily said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"If you think you're worthy of the history books you'll find that there will be a chapter or two devoted to your accomplishments and then the rest of it will be speculating on the juicer bits. Like an exotic bedwarmer," Emily commented.

"Yeah, she'd kill anyone who called her that," Harry said.

"I'm sure they'll wait until you're both dead to talk about how little Priya Patel broke your heart and turned you into a young hermit," Emily said.

"I'm not a hermit," Harry countered.

"If you insist," Emily said.

"Well I'm not," Harry said.

"If you insist," Emily said again as she finished the alcohol she'd poured into her glass. She glared at it for a moment before refilling it.

"Are you going to save me any of my whisky?" Harry asked.

"Unlikely," Emily responded.

"I don't remember you being an utter lush," Harry said.

"It makes everything hurt less," Emily said.

"What?" Harry asked. Emily just took another large sip of her whisky.

"We weren't talking about me," she commented, her voice filled with an authority he'd never taken note of before.

"I feel like I might need to take that away from you," Harry said.

"I feel like you'd die trying," Emily countered.

"That makes me want to do it more," Harry said.

"They will only find bits of you," Emily said.

"At least you found something you enjoy," Harry sighed.

"Are you done talking about you yet or?" Emily asked.

"You want more story time?" Harry teased. Emily glared in response.

"It is slightly less boring than you making facetious comments about whether or not I've solved all of your grand mysteries yet," Emily said.

"Well, had you then you'd have figured out the answer to your previous question," Harry commented.

"Aren't you the cheeky one tonight," Emily responded.

"Wonder who I got that from," Harry sighed.

"Please. You're not that much like me. I was never dumped," Emily said.

"So sure it was her decision?" Harry asked.

"Positive," Emily said.

"If you're so sure then I guess there isn't much of a point to me continuing then," Harry said.

"Now you're just being a grouch. But fine, you could talk about your supposed reason for bringing me back. You know that super dark wizard that you brought me back to fight who hasn't done anything since you lost miserably against him," Emily said.

"I'm sure he's plotting something," Harry said.

"Or he decided to be done with it and is hanging around on the French coast picking up young ladies," Emily said.

"Really?" Harry asked, his brows raised.

"You're probably right," Emily said. "He's probably hanging around on the French coast picking up young men," Emily said.

"Really?" Harry asked again.

"What?" Emily asked, drinking more alcohol.

"I don't think you're taking the threat seriously," Harry said.

"I'm not," Emily responded. "But if talking about your supposed reason for bringing me back isn't amusing enough for you, I can always go to bed."

"My supposed reason?" Harry asked.

"I don't think you brought me back to fight Grindelwald," Emily said.

"Well you're not entirely wrong," Harry said.

"Gross," Emily said, making a face.

"You're an attractive young lady, Em. But I'm not into bitchy drunks who murdered my parents," Harry said.

"Don't. Call. Me. That," Emily said. The temperature in his office dropped about ten degrees when she spoke.

"You're a mean drunk," Harry said.

"I'm a mean everything," Emily spat. "You will not call me the name _they_ used."

"With that attitude maybe it is time for you to go to bed," Harry said.

"You will not tell me what to do," Emily said.

"Were you always so easy?" Harry asked. Emily narrowed her eyes and took another sip of the alcohol.

"Probably," she said.

"So, you really don't think Grindelwald is a threat?" Harry asked.

"To me? Of course not. He thinks I'm dead. There's nothing preventing me from fleeing to Canada and living the rest of my days in ignorance," Emily said.

"You've obviously never had Canadian whiskey," Harry made a face.

"Imports Harry," Emily smiled.

"Touche," he sighed. He leaned back in the chair at his desk and turned his gaze to the window for a moment. Part of him didn't think she'd be capable of sitting it out. He assumed she'd think more like him on those lines. But now he was starting to realize just how wrong he could be.

The soft sound of ice in glass turned his attention back to his desk. A glass of whisky rested on his desk when he turned his attention back to it. Emily was staring at one of his bookshelves, obviously trying to act like she didn't notice.

"So," she said after he took a sip. "What happened next. I'm sure the Japanese ministry wasn't thrilled."

"You're right," he sighed as the memories of those days came forward.

"How many of them did you kill?" Emily asked.

"Strangely that's not how I solve all of my problems," Harry said.

"Explains a lot," Emily said.

"It worked out so well for you," Harry scoffed.

"Debatable," Emily countered.

"Well this is going nowhere," Harry said.

"Tell me what happened next," Emily responded.

"Well this might surprise you," Harry said, unable to hide the smirk as he spoke. "But I can be a bit of a cock."

"No? You?" Emily responded.

"I know, shocking," Harry said.

"Not sure what that has to do with anything, though," Emily responded.

"Well, it took me about a week to be up and around properly after everything. And by then they'd figured out something had to have happened. And I suppose it wasn't so hard to figure out who'd done it. Priya and Avery managed to keep them away from me for about a month," Harry explained.

"Commendable," Emily said. "What did you do?"

"Well a lot of people in the area, ones that I guess would have been magical if not for the area, that had never left or never tried, started to exhibit magical powers," Harry explained.

"Makes sense," Emily responded.

"They were looking for any sort of guidance. Some went to the magical institutions all over Japan. Most didn't receive much help or assistance. Everything was too early, too raw. Even if they could demonstrate magic it wasn't considered effective enough to warrant teaching. Many returned home, disheartened."

"And they found you," Emily said.

"No," Harry responded. "They found Fumiko and Priya."

"Oh?" Emily asked, raising her brows. Harry noticed she'd let her drink rest empty for a while. Perhaps now he was being entertaining enough to warrant paying attention to.

"Fumiko was one of those who started to show magical talent. She; however, was lucky enough to both have knowledge of magic and access to Avery. He'd started to cultivate her talent in the days that followed. And she'd talked to a few of her friends. Avery was rather overwhelmed at the thought of teaching fifteen plus women how to try to use basic levitation spells. But Priya wasn't."

"And?" Emily asked.

"The Japanese Ministry was rather…concerned…about unregistered educators. Apparently, they doubted we would be careful enough to keep magic a secret. So they came to our lessons at the Shinto shrine about a month later. It was one of the first ones I'd bothered attending," Harry said.

"And?" Emily asked again.

"And I got flippant with three Japanese Aurors who were there to try to ascertain if we were being careful enough and ended up getting my ass kicked," Harry admitted.

"What were you afraid to take off the kid gloves?" Emily laughed as if the notion of Harry losing to a few Aurors.

"Nope," Harry said.

"Then how?" Emily asked. "I refuse to believe you could lose to three measly Aurors."

"Well I did. And it wasn't even as close as you and Grindelwald," Harry countered.

"Or you and Grindelwald," Emily sneered.

"Pretty sure I was more effective against Gellert than I was against the Japanese," Harry said.

"There you go," Emily said. "Problem solved. Just grab three of them and go off him."

"If only," Harry said.

"How did you lose?" Emily asked.

"I wasn't myself," Harry shrugged.

"I'm betting there's more to it than that," Emily responded.

"Well, you said you'd figured it out," Harry sighed. Emily stared at him, her expression one of mild annoyance.

"Continue then," Emily said.

"Avery bailed me out. He settled down the Japanese who were quite happy with their dominance of Harry Potter and calmed down the entire situation rather quickly," Harry explained.

"Yes. I would imagine they did some serious bragging over their evening sake," Emily responded.

"One would think. Anyway, after they settled down, they rather kindly explained to me that under no uncertain terms would we be allowed to teach such English perversions, concepts and magic to Japanese citizenry. They did not take kindly to such English invasion and would never bother to accredit our efforts. And that we should take this as a lesson that we should cease all instructional activities immediately," Harry explained.

"And I'm sure you took their advice to heart and followed it to the letter," Emily said.

"Naturally," Harry admitted. "Except for the part where I completely ignored it."

"Of course," Emily responded.

"Anyway, they didn't have much to worry about at first. It took me a couple of months to recover and their show of force scared off most of our adult students. Some of the children didn't care, although I suspect they didn't have parental approval. Priya and Avery kept teaching while I recovered," Harry continued.

"And then?" Emily asked.

"About six months later they returned. I'd bought some land outside of Nagasaki and was starting to build our little school. Word got around to them as I knew it would and they reacted as I assumed they would," Harry said.

"They came back in force as a final warning?" Emily asked.

"Predicable, aren't they?" Harry nodded.

"And this time?" she asked.

"This time fifteen Aurors showed up with five Japanese governmental officials. They made some threatening remarks toward Priya and Fumiko while Avery and I were working on the roof. Then toward our students who'd attempted to defend the two women," Harry said.

"Why?" Emily asked.

"Well, the Japanese still weren't sure how to react to the return of magic. The Japanese government wasn't being helpful to the plight of new and confused witches and wizards. I was, and was doing it for free. The locals were trying to impress that point upon the government officials," Harry said.

"Understandable," Emily responded.

"Things got a bit heated. I decided to investigate the commotion. One of the local women got into it with one of the Aurors. He decided his best course of not dealing with that problem was just to stun her. Priya stepped in and was cursed instead," Harry explained.

"Oops," Emily said.

"It was an unfortunate move for him," Harry agreed.

"And what did you do then?"

"I had a nice pleasant conversation with one of the ministry officials there. After hashing out some details we agreed that our institution would be accredited by the Japanese government and receive a stipend for our efforts. There were some conditions, like agreeing that it should be Japanese school with mostly Japanese staff, and a few other compromises. But we sorted it out fairly quickly," Harry said.

"And how did you make that happen?" Emily raised her brows.

"I wouldn't tell the official how to undo what I'd done to the other nineteen members of his party until we hashed out an agreement," Harry said.

"Devious," Emily laughed.

"It worked," Harry shrugged. "A few of the Aurors tried to get back at me after. It ended even worse for them. But they're still alive."

"And I doubt they brag about beating Harry Potter any longer," Emily said.

"I would think not," Harry admitted.

"And I would think that's enough for tonight," Emily said with a yawn. She rose from the chair.

"And we're barely even halfway through," Harry said.

"Well wouldn't want to do the whole thing in one night," she said. And then, without any more ceremony, she turned for the door, taking the bottle of whisky with her. Harry watched her go without another word.

After she left he turned and stared out over the castle grounds. His first office, at his old school, didn't have quite the same view. It hadn't been a bad view. But his school certainly hadn't been a castle.

No, it had simply been a two-story building built up around a large outdoor courtyard. The office there was tucked into one of the corners and the view was mostly of the adjacent office. But he'd managed to angle himself enough to get a view of the cherry trees in the courtyard.

Still, it had been a nice view in its own right. But not quite as majestic as the castle grounds sprawling out around him. He sighed as he stared out at the grounds. He wanted to talk. And he knew who he wanted to talk to. He knew who he needed to talk to. And he knew that he wasn't going to be able to talk to her. So instead he leaned back and kept staring out the window.

They'd finished the school midway through summer. With help of the Japanese ministry they'd finished the building rather quickly. Harry spent the majority of the daytime hours for the rest of that summer teaching whatever he could think of to whomever showed up at his little school.

And then the evening hours were mostly occupied by ministry officials and varying degrees of bureaucratic bullshit. He knew they were only trying to help. But it still irritated him. They'd argued about nearly everything, from curriculum to staff to just what the student base should be.

Harry hadn't really wanted to turn it into Hogwarts. He'd just thought of it as more of a refuge for anyone with budding talents to come for a day or a week or a year. They'd compromised again with a simple solution. Why not both?

So that was the decision. They'd start with one group of eleven-year-old children and continue to tutor any adults who showed up interested in gaining a magical education.

The students were more difficult to gain. But there was a larger pool to draw from given the recent return of magic. The problem was that most of them were from families who had been aware of magic at some point. Some of whom had been able to perform very minor spells, but not quite enough to warrant educating.

And the Japanese ministry didn't trust Harry enough to entrust him with many of the ones that did. Nor did most of the older families want to send their children to some new school with no history. He figured he would be lucky to wind up with twenty students in the inaugural class.

The evening meetings grew exhausting and repetitive. He hated dealing with the governments. It often felt incredibly futile and made him just want to leave it all behind and move onto the next great adventure.

But he didn't want to leave the country before Avery and Fumiko's wedding. When he thought about it, that annoyed him. Not for any reason he could identify. And he knew he was being stupid by thinking it.

The problem, he thought, was that he'd grown accustomed to making Avery deal with most of the bureaucrats while he made snide comments. But instead he had to wade through that himself while Avery spent more time helping plan his wedding.

It probably bled into his mood more than he cared to admit. Because one evening Priya, after a minor argument the specifics of which Harry couldn't remember, invited herself along to the meetings. And having her there made it better.

It didn't change the negotiations at all. But it calmed Harry, and it made the evenings easier. And they could joke about it after and pursue other activities for the rest of the night.

She didn't come to every meeting though. She wasn't quite as interested in it as he was. And really, he wasn't really sure why he was that interested in it. He'd never really wanted to settle down. And, if he was being honest, he didn't plan on doing it forever. But, he thought it sounded like something he'd be good at. And something he could do for a few years before moving on to whatever took his fancy. It gave him something to focus on for the time being, though, and he was doing just that. But, he knew, there was more than simply that keeping him in Japan.

Shortly after Avery and Fumiko were engaged, he'd sold the house in Osaka. Fumiko wanted to live closer to her native Nagasaki and Avery was more than willing to oblige. He'd told Harry to do whatever he wanted with the house. But Harry didn't like the notion of being too far from Avery.

He'd talked with Priya about it. Although he didn't tell her all of his concerns. He didn't think she'd really understand them. And that seemed like it would just end up being an awkward conversation.

In the end, they'd wound up looking for homes around Nagasaki as well. It only took a couple of weeks for him and Priya to find something they thought suitable. Avery took longer, but he had more expensive tastes.

He felt oddly adult while he and Priya moved their possessions into the home mostly by Apparating back and forth between the two destinations. The entire process, including unpacking and rearranging only took a few hours and the first night felt oddly strange with the new surroundings. But they grew used to it quickly.

He'd taken a few days off of the ministry meetings after to properly enchant the home to provide the level of secrecy he was interested in. But after it had been back to work as the summer drew to a close.

One night, after a particularly long meeting while the debate on staff members was winding down, he'd Apparated to the front path, as close as one could to the home without risking permanent injury.

It was a cool night with a nice breeze. He remembered pausing for a moment as he appeared, enjoying the gentle breeze on his face as he did. He only lingered for a moment before stepping inside.

"I'm back," he said as he entered stepped into the kitchen and flipping a light on. A quick glance to the living room found Priya laying on the couch, covered by a fuzzy emerald blanket. She only had one dim light on in the room but it was enough to see that her hair was down and unbraided, her face looking remarkably young without any makeup. The windows in the living room were open and she had the blanket pulled up to her chin, clutching it close to her body.

"Welcome back," she said quietly, smiling as she saw him. She'd been feeling a bit under the weather that day. A headache and a stomach bug prevented her from coming with him to the meeting.

"Feeling better?" he asked, noticing she had a cup of tea on the end table. He turned around to see a pot on the counter. He flicked his wand to bring it to an acceptable temperature and poured himself a cup.

"Much," she said. "I told you I just needed a bath and a nap."

"You did," he said, sniffing at the tea. "Did you do anything to this?"

"No," she giggled. "Lust Potion tea was something I think I'm only going to try once."

"Good," Harry chuckled. "And you said that was fourth? Do I even want to know what Witch Weekly thought were three other fun ways to kill an evening?"

"Probably," Priya giggled again.

"Well, maybe this weekend," Harry said, sipping his tea.

"You wish you were that lucky," she said.

"Are you cold?" he asked, gesturing to the blanket and doing his best to change the subject. "Want me to close the windows?"

"I could just like the blanket, you know," she countered.

"I'm sure. But it's still rather heavy for summer," Harry said.

"Or I could be naked under it," Priya said. Harry raised his brows and looked at her. He could make out the outline of her thin form beneath the blanket and was willing to accept that as a possibility.

"I can see your sock," Harry countered. Priya looked down toward her feet then back at him. A moment later her other foot poked out from underneath the blanket. She hooked a toe into her sock and pulled it down off her leg, kicking it into the center of the room before both feet disappeared back under the blanket.

"Or not," she said.

"Well there's only one way to find out," Harry said. He took a large sip of tea before flipping the light in the kitchen off and stepping toward her in the living room.

"That's true," she nodded. When he approached the couch she held her arms up, underneath the blanket. It was a simple enough gesture, one he could understand readily enough. He obliged her by crawling onto her. She wrapped her arms around him, the blanket both encompassing him and preventing him from having her.

He remembered kissing her for a very long time. He didn't know why that night seemed so important in his memories. But he remembered their hands wandering everywhere. He remembered simply staring into her eyes and wondering if, to her, he looked how she did to him. There was nothing but happiness in her expression, in her eyes, in her touch, in her kisses. It almost seemed to make her glow as they kissed.

Eventually, somehow, he wound up under the blanket as well. She hadn't been naked, but she'd been pretty close and it hadn't taken him long to rectify that situation. They kissed almost the whole time, at least until she slipped her lips from his and dug her nails into his back. She'd slid her lips to his ear, whispering to him, begging him, and then giving him one simple command he was happy to obey.

After he lay on her, his forehead pressed to hers as both their breathing returned to normal. She spoke first.

"I love you, Harry," she said.

"I love you, Priya," he responded, shocked by the warmth that seemed to radiate around them as the truth of his words rang through him. He kissed her once more. "Should we head to bed?"

"No," she said. "Let's stay like this for a bit."

"Okay," he said, finding it hard to think of anything that sounded better than that.

"How was the meeting?" she asked. He couldn't help but chuckle softly. Of all the small talk they could have, or sweet nothings she could whisper, she'd gone right back to business.

"Fine," he said. "They've agreed to start with five classes and go from there. They're adamant on Japanese professors. They're going to start vetting candidates to bring to other meetings."

"Just five?" she asked.

"I think they'll add more around third or fourth year. But they want to ensure we can do the basic knowledge subjects first," Harry said.

"And you're going to teach?" she asked.

"Transfiguration probably," Harry said.

"Really?" she asked. "Not Defense?"

"Not one of the five," Harry said. "We eventually agreed on Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and History."

"Interesting choices," Priya said.

"I wanted to switch out History for Defense. They would only do it for a type of Divination and Astronomy slash Astrology hybrid. They put more stock in that here, I think," Harry said.

"They do," Priya responded.

"And they're only going to let me have one other non-Japanese professor," Harry said.

"I see," Priya frowned.

"So, do you want to teach potions?" he asked.

"What about Alex?" she countered.

"I don't think he wants to teach anyone besides Fumiko. And I think they should maybe have some time to be newlyweds," Harry said.

"Yeah," Priya agreed.

"So?" he asked again. Priya paused, but then nodded.

"I think I'd like that," she said.

"Me too," Harry said.

"I don't really remember much from first year potions, though," Priya frowned.

"It shouldn't matter. They're giving us copies of the curriculum from the other schools and a guideline of what the students should learn year by year," Harry said.

"And likely a bit of oversight," Priya said.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I can't tell if they want me to fail or not. They're being helpful to an extent. It's just a weird vibe."

"They don't know you well if they think you're going to fail," Priya said. Harry smiled and kissed her.

"No, they don't," he said.

"And it's just going to be one year of students to start right? So, I'll have plenty of time to work on our research?" Priya asked.

"Well, one year and I think a once a week adult class. But yes, I think we should have plenty of time to write up the research," Harry said.

"Good," Priya said. "Then it's just working on the doctorate too."

"Are you sure you want to teach and not just focus on that?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure," Priya said quietly. She leaned up to kiss him before resting back on the pillow.

"As long as you're sure," Harry said.

"I am," Priya said. "But I do have a question for you."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"What are you feeding me after my wonderful performance?" she asked.

"You've been home all day and I get to make dinner?" Harry teased.

"I went shopping. And we both know you don't want to eat my cooking," Priya asked.

"Your last curry and tandoori chicken were fine," Harry said.

"Oh? Fine? Well isn't that just a ringing endorsement," Priya teased.

"Well what would you like?" Harry asked.

"You're the chef," Priya said.

"Pepper steak?" Harry teased.

"No," Priya said.

"Cheeseburger?" Harry asked.

"No," Priya said.

"Steaks and potatoes?" Harry asked.

"Do you want me to ever sleep with you again?" Priya asked.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"So, what are you making me for dinner?" Priya asked again.

"I feel like that's going to be based entirely on what you bought today," Harry said. He kissed her once more before rising and finding some of his clothing. Once he was decent enough he walked back to the kitchen.

"What did you come up with?" Priya asked as she joined him into the kitchen, adjusting her clothing as she sat on one of the stools.

"You bought a whole lot of vegetables. I'm just going to stir fry a few of them and make some rice. Boring, but about all the effort I want to put into food right now," Harry said.

"After all the effort I put in?" Priya faux-pouted.

"Seemed fitting," Harry agreed as he started on dinner. It didn't take him very long to make dinner, nor did it take them long to eat it. After, they simply relaxed with a bottle of wine and the cool evening air. Their conversation didn't go anywhere until Harry crawled into bed and slid an arm around her waist.

"I received a letter from my parents today," she whispered in the darkness as she pressed her body back to his. Harry bit his lip before responding.

"Oh?" he said.

"They're going to be in India in two weeks," she said. "And they'd like to meet you."

"You told them about me?" he asked.

"Well, I told my grandmother about you," Priya said. "My parents…well…they know we were doing research together."

"But not that we're sleeping together?" Harry said.

"I mean they're smart people, I assume they figured it out. But I haven't told them directly yet," Priya said.

"Am I to be your research assistant or your boyfriend?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Priya responded.

"It's a day for ringing endorsements, isn't it," Harry said, perhaps more tersely than he would have liked.

"You know it's not that," Priya frowned. "My parents are weird. And I'm the oddball that ran away to Japan rather than fawn over the nice Indian boy they were trying to set me up with."

"Anyone I know?" Harry asked.

"Considering he's five years older than me I would think probably not," Priya frowned. "But do you really want to talk about other men?"

"Are they still trying?" Harry asked.

"Not overtly," Priya said. "But it will probably come up at least once when we meet them."

"Even with me there?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," Priya said. "They tried to emasculate my first boyfriend when I was thirteen because he was too white."

"Sounds fun," Harry said.

"And you're not allowed to curse them," Priya said.

"I would have never even considered that," Harry said.

"For some reason I don't believe that," Priya said.

"Oh, come on, I'm not that hex happy," Harry said.

"Uh-huh. So, you'll come with me?" Priya asked.

"Of course. But I would much rather be introduced as your boyfriend than anything else," Harry said. He paused as he said it. He didn't like that sentence but he wasn't quite sure why.

"Okay," Priya said. "Have you ever been to India?"

"I was in Bihar once a couple of years ago," Harry said.

"Bihar?" Priya asked. "Was it around the time of the massacres?"

"No comment," Harry said.

"What did you do?" Priya asked, wiggling around in bed to face him.

"Got in the way, mostly," Harry yawned.

"You are a master of euphemism," Priya said.

"I'll take that compliment," Harry said.

"Are you not going to tell me?" Priya asked.

"It's not one of my more interesting stories," Harry said. "And I'm tired. I'll tell you in the morning."

"Okay," Priya said, pressing her face into his neck. Harry closed his eyes, his mind still trying to determine just what bothered him about the earlier sentence. Something about the word choice sat wrong with him. But he was too tired to dwell on it.

He remembered the trip to India fondly. They'd spent a week there, mostly in Mumbai. He felt like an idiotic tourist but it was nice to have another idiotic tourist that at least spoke the language. He'd ribbed Priya for not knowing much about her home country, only to take her taunts, in an amazingly bad Indian accent, about how she'd been born and bred in England.

They enjoyed their time sightseeing regardless. Harry always liked observing new cultures. If he was honest, it made him want to travel once more. But this time with a slightly younger, distinctly less male companion.

They'd only spent a couple of the days of their vacation with her parents. And, to his surprise, it was mostly uneventful. Her parents were cautious but cordial. And Priya didn't do anything to remotely hide any aspect of their relationship. In fact, she'd kissed him right before them when they were introduced. Later he would learn that her grandmother actually thought Harry was better for her than anyone else they'd tried to throw in front of her.

They never told him, but deep down he thought that they saw him as their best chance to get Priya back to England. He didn't have the heart to mention that the two of them had never discussed that possibility.

But, the best part of it, and it was probably mildly racist of him to think but he didn't care, was seeing Priya in a sari. He had no real reason why. But something about seeing her in clothing he considered exotic greatly amused him.

It was funny, if he thought about it. He'd seen her in all sorts of outfits running the gamut from lingerie to basic work clothing. But when she'd joined him in the hotel lobby after spending far too long getting ready wearing a turquoise and gold sari with matching jewelry, he'd just stared at her.

She expected some type of snide comment, he assumed, but he'd been unable to make one. Or do much more than stare at her while they joined her parents at a family party. He felt like an inept buffoon for the majority of the party as his attention focused solely on Priya. He'd even been a little reluctant to unwrap her after the party.

After she'd joked that she hated wearing them. But maybe if he was good she'd wear one again. And then that she'd probably have to wear one for her wedding, whenever that came. Those words had lingered in the darkness of the bedroom.

And then it all clicked to Harry. But that had been the last night of their vacation and they returned back to Nagasaki the next morning only to wind up ankle deep in helping with the last minute preparations for Avery and Fumiko's wedding.

Despite the months of planning, the event itself snuck up on Harry. Probably, he assumed, because it wasn't his own. And he'd grown busy with the staff of his school and the ministry guidelines for the curriculum.

They hadn't resisted Priya nearly as much as he'd expected. Deep down he assumed they were just happy that he hadn't suggested Avery as his reputation preceded him even if no one commented on it.

Harry found himself present for the other staff decisions. They'd hired mostly youth with the exception of an older charms teacher with fifty years of experience. When Harry asked, she explained that she and her husband were originally from Nagasaki and hoped to help out. And Harry was glad for the help.

He even contracted one of the ministry officials, a man in his forties who'd been the most productive in their sessions, to oversee the institution part time to ensure they were staying on track. The man had been rather surprised by the offer, indicating it would be part of his job to do so anyway, but Harry told him he'd prefer to be proactive than reactive and they worked their way around any possible conflicts.

So with two weeks left before the start of the school year he found himself with a completed building perfectly up to the standards the Japanese expected, a staff where he and Priya were by far the least qualified people on it, and a list of twenty-two students.

The wedding wound up being the first real day off he'd taken between vacationing with Priya and the start of the school year. He found himself surprisingly busier than he expected, never having dealt with a wedding before.

He spent the majority of the ceremony next to a surprisingly nervous Alexander Avery. He and Priya were the only two in attendance that were technically guests of the groom. The ceremony itself was a rather quiet affair of mostly relatives, but the reception after was much larger.

In fact, it was surprisingly larger. Quite a few Japanese ministry officials showed up, along with just about everyone they'd come into contact with in Nagasaki. A few Londoners even showed and chatted with Avery. Some of them gave Harry long stares but he ignored them. Still, Harry was shocked at the amount of people that came.

He spent the majority of the morning shaking hands and being personable. He probably would have ended up killing someone if not for the exotic beauty in a stunning turquoise dress at his side for the entire duration.

Unfortunately, as the ceremony started, Priya left to take a seat while he joined Avery at the altar. Harry found himself tuning out most of the ceremony and reflecting on the last few years of his life. If someone had told him years ago that he'd be the Best Man at a wedding for a Death Eater he would have probably attacked that person.

He rejoined Priya for the reception, an outdoor party lit by fairies fluttering between the trees in a cleared-out bit of forest near the new school. He danced with Priya for what felt like hours, took a turn with Fumiko while Avery refreshed drinks, and ate way too much of the ever-replenishing food.

And then he found himself in the middle of everyone as they all expected some type of speech. He raised his glass to the bride and groom as no words came to him. It couldn't have been more than a few moments but it felt like an eternity.

What could he say about Alexander Avery? What could he actually say? He'd even spent time planning it. But when the time came there were no words. There was too much he just couldn't talk about.

How could he? He couldn't talk about the way Avery looked at young Celia Borgin and how he'd recognized that look on another man's face and how it sent a pang through his chest. Or the rage he felt when he watched the man cradling the bodies of his first wife and son.

And he certainly couldn't talk about how that event led directly what the English Aurors still mourned as the Blackest Night in their history. The twenty-eight names from that massacre were still emblazoned on the back wall of the Auror office, to be remembered for their sacrifice, according to the plaque.

The fact that they were simply all too stupid to give up the names of the four Aurors that ambushed and killed an incredibly weak witch and her squib son in their own home never seemed to come up. No, instead they were considered brave and noble. But, in the end, those four joined their colleagues as well.

But Harry couldn't talk about the loyalty Avery had shown through the war. It would be improper to mention his service during the war. People would get the wrong idea.

He could talk about loyalty though. He just couldn't start until much later. And so he did. The words took a while to come to him, but they eventually did.

Harry spoke about the man that traveled with him for those years. The man who'd been by his side for years, always willing to help out with anything. The man who'd taught him every bit of magic he'd known, who'd taught him how to properly drink, who was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father or a brother, who encouraged him to chase after anything that he wanted.

And somewhere along the way, that man had found what he wanted. And ever since he did he'd become obviously happier. And it was great to see two people in love. He wished them the best in the years to come.

He paused as he finished the speech, sipping the wine left in his glass as his mind jumbled for a moment. He'd only used part of what he'd prepared, the rest of it just seemed to come to him in the moment.

Then he realized where it came from. A shiver ran through his spine as his vision was treated to a rapid series of images. A red flag with a blue cross flashed before him and then an icy chill and a frozen land. He tried to focus on those images but they faded away, melting back into the forest party around him.

His gaze shifted around quickly. Scanning the party for anything out of place. Already knowing just what his next move would be. He recognized that flag. He needed to get there immediately. There was nothing worth staying for in Japan.

"You okay?" a quiet voice asked from his side as a warm hand slid into his own. And Harry turned down and saw something he hadn't quite ever seen before. Something worth far more than chasing stray ghosts in Norway.

"What?" the words came out before he realized it.

"You doing alright? You looked a little dazed," Priya Patel asked. She gazed up at him, the light from the fairies reflecting in her wide, dark eyes. He almost asked her then, too. A question that, deep down, he knew he'd ask at some point.

But that day wasn't supposed to be about him. It was supposed to be about Alexander and Fumiko Avery. So, when he spoke, he didn't ask a question.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just reflecting on the last few years."

"And how following around an old drunk somehow led to here?" Priya asked.

"Well, had to find you somehow," Harry teased.

"You know we went to the same school, right?" Priya teased.

"Well yeah, but you wouldn't give me the time of day. I had to pine away for you in silence," Harry said.

"I bet you didn't even know who I was," Priya teased.

"You wore a support Cedric Diggory badge the entirety of your sixth year," Harry said.

"Well, Cho was dating him. It seemed supportive," Priya frowned.

"And I think you only came to three DA meetings the following year," Harry said.

"I remember finding it uncomfortable that the teacher would stand behind you, adjust your from with hands on your hips, practically whisper into your ear, and then make you curse your best friends," Priya said.

"Was I that creepy?" Harry asked, alarm evident in his voice.

"You were there?" Priya asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Did you get groped too?"

"No groping," Harry said. "But yes, I was there."

"I don't recall," Priya said.

"Really? I've always been rather famous, you know," Harry said.

"Ugh don't tell me you were one of those athletes that thought they were actually important and doing the world a service by playing a sport," Priya frowned.

"You have me pegged. I was so amazing at quidditch that I was banned for life just to keep it fair for everyone else," Harry said.

"I'm impressed," Priya said, sounding anything but.

"I thought so too," Harry said. She smiled at him and rested her head against his arm for a moment.

"Want to get out of here and spend the next three days in bed?" Priya asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "But we can't leave yet. We have to at least wait until the Bride and Groom retire."

"Ugh," Priya intoned. "What if we do Witch Weekly's third best way to kill a weekend?"

"Didn't that involve Polyjuice?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Priya said.

"Gross," Harry said.

"Not according to Witch Weekly," Priya said.

"Let's dance," Harry said, shaking his head and smiling at her, thoughts of fleeing to Norway completely gone from his head as Priya slid into his arms once more. He wasn't sure what they did could really be called dancing. They stood, holding each other as music washed over them. Priya pressed her forehead into his shoulder and Harry would have bet she fell asleep on her feet.

"In all seriousness, though, was I really that creepy during the defense group meetings?" Harry asked.

"No," Priya said. "I would have gone to more, but that was far and away the NEWT I cared the least about. Although my parents still harp on me for only being Acceptable,"

"Ah," he said, letting the conversation die there. He stood with her, swaying gently with the music and enjoying the rest of their time at the party, until Alex and Fumiko took a portkey to their honeymoon destination. Harry slid his arms around Priya as the newlyweds disappeared from the party.

"Now we can go?" she yawned, peering up at him.

"After a few farewells," he said and led her over toward some of the ministry officials who'd sided with him about his school, knowing that he should at least treat them amiably. She was asleep on her feet when they arrived back home. He magicked her into pajamas and carried her to bed, joining her a few minutes later. His thoughts filled with her as he drifted off to sleep.

That was the last purely blissful weekend for a while. Once the first year at the school started everything seemed harsher. It took him a while to place it. He liked the students, he liked the other staff members, he liked teaching. He liked talking about teaching. He found his time consumed with it, trying to be the best at it as he possibly could be.

And he loved being in the classroom. He loved demonstrating things that, just months ago, the students thought were impossible. He loved their awed reverence of him. And he loved that he felt like he'd created something that would do good in the world.

Priya, on the other hand, didn't take to it at all. It had taken months for him to really realize it. At first she'd just seemed a little more distant, a little tired, he thought. He didn't put much stock in it because, if he was honest, he was a little worn out too. He'd just attributed it to actually having responsibilities and a job.

Sure, he probably put less overall time into it than he had their research. But he'd done that on his terms and it he'd never really considered it a job or a responsibility. And teaching ended up being more draining than he'd thought. Priya, he figured, must be going through the same thing.

But then she'd grow a little sullen and seemed a little annoyed when he'd go on about the students or the lesson, or a funny story from the day. She tried to hide it. But he knew her too well by that point.

In early December he'd stopped outside the door of her classroom and peered in to observe the lesson. He'd meant to interrupt, to clarify their dinner plans, and see how her morning was.

But what he saw through the small window stopped him in his tracks. Her expression gave it away. Perhaps not to the young students in the room. In fact, he'd never heard a complaint about her, but he saw it immediately. She hated what she was doing.

Suddenly a rush of things made perfect sense. She'd always been indolent in grading, prefer to work on her research instead. To the point where Harry often graded potions essays for her.

And she'd often left her lesson plans to the last minute as well. But Harry didn't have any issue with that as they were always done in time and were good lessons. But even that was starting to make sense now.

He slipped away before she saw him and walked back to his office utterly unsure of how he was going to handle the situation. Thinking about it simply made it worse for him though. Because he was the one who'd talked her into it. He was the one who'd convinced her that she should join him at the school rather than returning to the medical field. He was the one who made her miserable.

At first he hoped he was overreacting. He knew he had a tendency to read too much into things. But when the winter holiday came around, and Priya's demeanor took a complete turn back to the happy woman he was accustomed to. And he knew it was because for two weeks the specter of grading and planning was gone for the time being.

The worst part, though, was that knowing she was miserable made him feel utterly miserable. He couldn't think of any way to approach her about it. So, he took the coward's way out and didn't. He let the first semester wind down into the winter holiday, stewing on how he'd made the woman he absolutely loved utterly miserable.

And he'd almost forgotten about it while they'd decorated the house for Christmas. Priya had insisted, even if neither of them really believed in it. 'Tis the season, she argued. And Harry didn't have any way to counter that.

They'd gone rather all out, lights, wreaths, fake snow, a giant decorated tree. Priya had even built a little Victorian village on the shelves in the living room and decorated it as well. When they'd finished with their home, they'd decorated the school as well. That was more upsetting to Harry though, as she looked so happy while doing it, the happiest he could remember seeing her at his school.

He'd been distracted from that by being asked to help with planning the holiday party for students, staff, and family. It ended up being a rather fun evening. But, after, Harry was unable to sleep so he'd slipped from bed and walked into the kitchen.

He lit the tree and used that as the only light in the room as he looked through the liquor cabinet. While he and Priya had a rather impressive wine collection, the rest of their alcohol was lacking. He found a bottle of muggle Japanese whisky. He couldn't help but make a face at it, but it was still the best he could come up with so he took it out and summoned a glass. He poured about two inches into the glass before setting it down on the counter and sliding onto a stool there.

His attention shifted to the Christmas tree. There were a handful of presents underneath it. Because Priya insisted there should be. He knew a few of them were for him, and a few of them were for Priya, and there were a couple for Alex and Fumiko as well, as they'd offered to host them on Christmas morning and, again, Priya insisted.

But he liked the tree. It felt warm and nice and made everything feel so much more like home. He admired it for a few moments before taking a sip of the whisky.

It wasn't bad. The Japanese made a pretty good whisky. Better than the swill the Canadian and Americans tried to peddle. But it still wasn't like the stuff from back home. Although he'd argued with Avery as to if they could call Scotland back home. The argument had only resulted in Avery buying an assortment of alcohol to prove his point and Harry getting incredibly drunk.

He smiled at the memory and took another sip of his drink and continued to reflect on past drinking experiences. After two-drinks worth of time his absence was noticed. He heard the bedroom door open and a few moments later Priya entered the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"No," Harry said, finishing his second glass of whisky.

"Why not?" Priya asked.

"No idea," Harry said.

"Something's bothering you," Priya said. She took another glass from a cabinet and picked up the bottle form the counter, pouring a little into each. She made a face when she drank. A face that Harry still found impossibly adorable.

"I didn't want to fight," he admitted, stupidly.

"Well, now we're going to have to," Priya said. She lifted her drink to her lips and stared at him over the rim of the glass.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked.

"Tell you what?" she asked.

"That you're miserable," Harry said.

"Excuse me?" Priya asked.

"I've seen how you look. You don't need to hide it. I know you well enough to tell," Harry said. He watched Priya's face fall as he spoke. The glass in her hand trembled until she placed it down on the bar, tears welled in her eyes.

"This is a really shitty way to break up with someone," Priya whispered, her voice breaking as she spoke, along with Harry's heart.

"What?" Harry asked, aghast.

"It's…It's…we…don't need to…" Priya started, gasping against the tears. Harry slid from his stool and had his arms around her in seconds. Which had the unfortunate effect of making her start to cry in earnest.

"Priya I don't want to break up with you," Harry said. "Not in the least."

"Then why?" Priya asked. "You've been so distant lately and it's been like you weren't all there and like you're keeping something from me."

"I've been feeling bad because you're unhappy!" Harry argued.

"I'm not unhappy!" Priya countered. "Well I am now but until a few minutes ago I wasn't!"

"I watched you teach. You looked miserable. And you never seem interested in anything related to the school. And it was me that convinced you to do that. So now you're doing something for me that I know you don't enjoy. And I really don't like that thought," Harry said.

"I don't…hate…teaching," Priya said, diplomatically.

"Priya," Harry said.

"Well I don't," Priya frowned. "It's just…"

"That you severely dislike it?" Harry finished.

"No. I just. I never really thought that's what I'd be. I mean I'm like a semester away from full certification as a healer. I should have already finished that but our research was too important. And now instead I'm teaching remedial potions to children," Priya sighed.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," Harry said.

"I know that. But it's just I always wanted to be a healer. Ever since I was a little girl. And then when I found about what happened to Japan I dreamed of fixing it. And I mean I couldn't really do that, but," Priya took a deep breath and Harry seized the opportunity to speak.

"Yes, you could," he said.

"No. We both know that's nonsense. You did it," Priya said. "Only you could have done it. And you did it."

"That's rubbish," Harry said. "We both know I would have given up after a month if not for you. And it was your ideas, your research, your planning. You're the engineer. I'm the labor."

"It's nice of you to say that," Priya said.

"It's the truth. And don't you dare ever think otherwise," Harry said. Priya sniffled quietly for a moment before continuing.

"And I feel like I sort of gave up on my dream to settle down and teach," she admitted.

"Why did you agree then?" he asked.

"Well, at first, I thought I'd have time for both. But it just got so busy. And I couldn't balance it. And then it started to really hit me that I might never actually finish what I'd wanted for so long."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"You seemed to be having so much fun and enjoying it so much I thought maybe that would happen to me eventually. And I didn't want to lose you over something stupid," Priya said.

"That's never going to happen, Priya. You are never going to lose me," Harry responded.

"I just always feel like…I don't deserve to be a part of your story," Priya said. Harry shifted away from her purely to take her chin in his hand and kiss her.

"You're the best part of my story," he said. "But I think it's time we finish yours."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I think you should finish that certification and finish the research and become a famous researcher and healer," Harry said.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. And it was her turn to kiss him.

"What do we do now?" she asked as their lips parted.

"Make-up sex?" Harry asked.

"Were we fighting?" Priya frowned.

"If I say yes will we have make-up sex?" Harry asked. Priya giggled.

"I'm kind of exhausted," Priya said. "Can we just cuddle and worry about that in the morning?"

"Of course," he said as they walked back to the bedroom. They both fell asleep almost immediately, feeling far more content than they could remember in the last month.

Priya did not return to work after the Christmas holiday. Instead, she resumed her Healer education at a Japanese institution. It ended up taking the rest of the spring semester and part of the summer for her to meet the criteria.

Harry found it a little odd at first. He'd leave before her every morning. And often arrive home to her making dinner while studying. She'd ask him about his day and he'd blab on until he though she couldn't possibly be interested in the drama of his school. And then he'd ask about hers and she'd blab on until she was convinced he didn't care about the drama of her school.

He felt oddly jealous of the people who stole her time from him during the day. But he knew how absurd of a thought that was. He helped her study when she could. And by the middle of summer she'd finished her last requirements. After passing the Japanese certification test she returned for a weekend to take the British test. When she rejoined him in Nagasaki she dressed, almost giddily, in the green robes of a healer.

All that was left was for her to spend a year as an apprentice in a hospital before she could call herself Doctor or Healer Patel. Her grandmother pulled some strings and put her into the Magical hospital in Osaka. She'd started flooing to work around the same time that he left to walk to the school.

Their routine continued except now he resumed cooking duties as she was often home later than him and exhausted. She spent every waking moment either reviewing patient records or working on her research.

And then it happened. After countless hours of working she finally finished her papers. Harry reviewed them but found he couldn't offer much in the way of constructive advice. So instead they sent them off to Healer Patel and Healer Singh for review. They'd both traveled to Nagasaki shortly after reading them to offer Priya their suggestions in person.

Harry took Healer Singh on a tour of the city while Priya and Farha caught up. The man was well into his eighties by then but still spry and sharp. Harry turned his gaze away as the man who he'd first encountered in Emily's diary teared up while he cast a simple spell in Nagasaki. He'd hugged Harry shortly after, thanking him. And it took all of Harry's will to not ask if he remembered the British girl that tried to help him heal locals all those years ago.

The healers spent a week with them before they all agreed it was time. And then, less than three days later, _On Magic and Muggle Radiation pt. 1_ by Priya Patel and Harry Potter appeared in _The Compendium of Magical Medical Research_. Excerpts of it wound up in just about every major newspaper in the magical world. A month later the whole thing was published.

Priya became an immediate hit. Most people wanted to talk to Harry about the work. But he deflected them to Priya and insisted it was almost entirely her work. They seemed skeptical about that, but accepted it as Priya answered all of their questions. Some of the fervor died down when they realized that Harry wouldn't be accepting interviews or anything of the nature.

The ones who approached her through the correct channels; however, found out that Harry was quite personable and a gracious host while they interviewed Priya, as if he took more pride in her success than anything associated with himself.

She found herself being invited to talks and conferences left and right. Most of which she happily attended if they didn't conflict too hard with her hospital schedule. Although no one said it, Harry thought the hospital was rather proud to have her on staff and gave her rather a lot of leeway.

It did mean that she spent a lot of time away from Harry. He went to a few of the talks with her. But his duties often kept him in Nagasaki. The time spent away from her, however, did firm his resolve about one thing he'd questioned.

When spring rolled around she joined him, Alex and Fumiko for a nice weekend stroll through the blooming cherry blossoms. It was a beautiful walk on a cool day. Fumiko had invited the two of them along, seemingly on a whim, and Priya had bought the ruse hook-line-and sinker.

He spent most of the walk hand-in-hand with her. But toward the end he let her trickle ahead of him, faking dropping down to tie a shoe as she stepped forward. When she turned around to see what was taking him too long, he was on one knee holding a small velvet box up toward her. Her eyes went wide and immediately started fanning herself with her hands as she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet.

"Priya Patel," he said as calmly as he could, taking a deep breath after her name. "I love you more than anything else on this planet. Every moment I spend separated from you I can think of little else but being back in your arms. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, helping you with any whim you can think of. Priya Patel, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

"Yes yes yes yes yes!" Priya yelled as she rushed to him, pulling him to his feet to hug and kiss him. There was a small cheer from Fumiko and Alex and a great deal of kissing and hugging and a little crying from Harry and Priya before things settled down.

"Here," Harry said, holding up the ring box after a few moments of celebration. She plucked the box from his hand and admired the ring. He'd gone overboard with a three stone pave and round setting with diamonds along the band. The stones glimmered in the sunlight as Priya stared at them in awe.

"Do the honors," she said, shoving the box back to him.

"Gladly," he said. And he took the ring from the box and slid it onto her hand. She sized it with her wand quickly before holding her hand out and admiring it.

"It's gorgeous," she said quietly. They both admired it for a moment before their hands entwined, their fingers working around each other's as he leaned down to kiss her. He couldn't help but marvel at the feel of the cold metal against his hand, awed at what that represented, and what that would mean for the rest of his life.

"I agree," he whispered, looking into her eyes with a large smile on his face as life, he thought, finally felt like life should.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work

Chapter 9

Their engagement managed to make the news in just about every major magical newspaper. Harry wasn't quite sure how as he stared down at a photograph of himself plastered on the front page of the Lifestyle section of the Nagasaki paper. It was an old photo, from the opening of the school, and was simply him smirking at the camera in his brand-new classroom. Below the fold there was another of him and Priya arm-in-arm in a park.

"Anything good in the paper?" Priya asked as she stepped into the kitchen. Harry turned his attention from the paper to her and couldn't help but admire his fiancé for a moment, especially as the meaning behind that word sank in. Her dark hair was down and falling nearly to the small of her back and she wore a pink negligee.

"Us," he said, summoning the teapot and an additional cup to the counter. He used magic to pour it for her as he slid the paper across the counter. She sat in his lap rather than at the other stool and slid the paper back toward herself.

"How did they even figure that out?" Priya asked, peering down at the article.

"It doesn't say," Harry said.

"Not surprised," Priya responded.

"I wasn't either," Harry said.

"Are you going to hunt down this Akane Tetsuo and string her up by her ankles and make her divulge her sources?" Priya asked. Harry couldn't help but smirk at that. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him just why he liked this girl.

"Hadn't planned on it," Harry said.

"What if I told you I thought it was kind of hot?" she asked. Harry raised his brows at her.

"Did you drink more of that Witch Weekly tea?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Gods no," Priya chuckled. "I think I'm still sore from that weekend."

"Are you positive? You're not usually what we could call 'pro-maiming,'" Harry said.

"I mean I wasn't going to go and tell you that I got all hot and bothered when you incapacitated twenty Aurors because I stepped in front of a curse. I didn't want you to get any ideas. But now that we're engaged I figured you should know," Priya said.

"Technically it was only nineteen and I don't think all of them were Aurors," Harry said.

"You're ruining the moment," Priya said, leaning back against him as she read the article in the paper.

"I'll keep that in mind when the next chance for general magical mayhem arises," Harry said. "Did you floo your parents this morning?"

"No," Priya sighed. "Floo'd my grandmother. I don't think I want to break it to my parents over the fire."

"Should I be worried?" Harry asked, feeling worried.

"No not at all. They like you. They tell me that every time we talk. I just…I don't know. I guess that I want to tell them in person. I was hoping we could maybe invite them over and make a big deal out of it," Priya said, quietly, as if she expected Harry to find that a silly idea.

"I'd love that," Harry said.

"Really? I know you don't like having a lot of people around. And I'm sure they'll decide that they just have to invite like everyone once they find out," Priya said.

"I think that sounds fun," Harry said. "I'd like to have a nice big party for my soon to be family."

"We can invite Alex and Fumiko after too. I'm sure they'd love to stop by," Priya said, knowing full-well that Harry thought of them as family.

"They would," Harry agreed.

"Do you want to invite anyone from England?" she asked. Harry frowned as she said it. Despite the fact that she couldn't see his face, he still pressed it into her hair so she couldn't see his expression.

"No," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Can we talk about that?" she asked. It was an interesting question, Harry thought. They'd never really talked about his disinterest in England. He'd told her the truth of Emily Riddle and the Ministry of Magic and he assumed she understood how that extrapolated to his current opinion. But he'd never voiced it to her.

"Yes," he said, knowing that they would have to talk about things that made them uncomfortable. The things they'd avoided. Well, there wasn't much of a point in avoiding them now.

"Are you going to?" she asked after he didn't say anything.

"Yes," he said again, knowing he wouldn't be able to get away with repeated one-word answers for much longer.

"Harry," she groaned, tensing in annoyance but he smirked and kissed her head.

"Sorry. I couldn't resist. It's a hard topic for me and I'm trying to think of how I want to say it. I don't really know how to start," he frowned, a flush rising to his cheeks as he realized that was the truth and not simply an excuse.

"I've found the best way to start is to just, you know, start," Priya said.

"I never feel right around people from England. They've bought into Fudge's propaganda. And it just never sits right with me while around them knowing that everything they think is wrong," Harry said.

"That's a teensy bit nuts, Harry," Priya responded.

"I know that," Harry said. "It's just something with how they look at me. It gets in my head and it makes annoyed and uncomfortable. Neither of which are things I'm particularly good at or okay with. I'm hoping to work on it."

"So, work on it by inviting some people to our engagement party then," Priya said. "You know your friend Ron, whom I've never actually met. Or that Granger girl that I am totally better looking than," Priya offered.

"I don't have the problem around them," Harry said. "But, well, I don't think I will."

"And here you asked if you should be worried I haven't told my parents yet," Priya sighed.

"Avery knows," Harry said.

"I'm not sure that counts," Priya countered.

"He's the only one that does," Harry said. "But that's not why."

"Oh?" Priya asked.

"When you first brought it up, I thought it would be sort of nice to have it be a Patel family thing," Harry admitted.

"What?" Priya asked.

"You know I don't really have a family. I mean the Weasleys were great and all. But I wasn't really family there. That's on me. They tried but I just wasn't really ready for that I think. It never really felt right for me. And then you talked about how your parents would want to invite everyone and it kind of clicked that, well, I am actually going to be part of a family," Harry said.

"Oh," Priya sniffled.

"And I made you cry," Harry said.

"No, of course not," Priya sniffed again. "It's just the onions in the omelet you were going to make me."

"You don't like omelets," Harry said.

"Shush," Priya said.

"Sorry," Harry said. Priya wiggled around on the stool so she was facing him. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Do you really think that?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said feeling suddenly even more embarrassed. "Is it stupid?"

"No, not at all," she said, hugging him tightly.

"So yeah. I thought it would be nice to have it, be, you know, family," Harry said.

"I'd like that," Priya said.

"Me too," Harry said.

"And I'll get to brag about my ring to my super annoying cousins," Priya smirked.

"Did I overdo it?" Harry asked. He slid a hand down her left arm and held up her hand, staring at the only ring she wore.

"Yes," Priya nodded as she looked down to her hand as well. "But it's gorgeous and I love it. You have great taste."

"Fumiko helped," Harry said sheepishly. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to refute his taste in wedding rings but he did so nonetheless.

"I can't wait to show everyone," Priya said, her attention still focused on the ring. She shifted her hand around slightly so the stones glittered in the light.

"Is it wrong of me to hope they're all jealous?" Harry asked.

"Of course not," Priya said.

"Do you want breakfast before your shift today?" he asked.

"Please," Priya said, shifting off of him and into the other stool at the dining bar. "I suppose it's too early to floo London and invite them all over."

"Midnight I believe," Harry said as he summoned some eggs from the fridge and started scrambling them.

"Not the best time to floo," Priya said.

"No," Harry agreed. "After the shift would be better."

"I hate working on Saturday. What are you doing today while I labor away?" Priya asked.

"Grading and lesson plans probably. Review the stuff from the Ministry to make sure everything is on point still," Harry said.

"Sounds riveting," Priya responded.

"Hey just because you're the breadwinner doesn't mean my job is utterly boring," Harry teased as he finished her eggs and brought them over to her.

"Yeah, I'm not even going to digest that. I'm still not sure where you got your money," Priya said.

"I only know about a third of it," Harry responded.

"That can't be true," Priya said.

"You'd be surprised," Harry responded as Priya shoveled eggs into her mouth in a most unladylike manner.

"Meet me for lunch?" she asked.

"Gladly," Harry said.

"Great," Priya said. She finished the last of her eggs and slid off of her stool. She used hugging him as an excuse to take his wand from her pocket. With a flick she was dressed in her apprentice robes. Another quick flick summoned her wand from the bedroom and then she was out the fire place.

She put on quite the show for her parents that evening insisting they come to visit soon. Almost to the point of fake tears. When she was done Harry teased her that she should stop her work as a healer and try Bollywood. She told him she hated elaborate group dances.

He'd used his contacts at the ministry to secure them a Portkey with an arrival just down the path to their house. They looked exhausted when they arrived. Harry and Priya were sipping wine out front. He'd suggested tea but she'd vetoed it. Her mother wouldn't mind, she'd insisted, and her father would ignore it.

And Priya, unsurprisingly, had been completely correct. They'd met them as they walked up the path, her arm linked through his, her head resting against his shoulder. After only a couple of moments her mother had gasped and grabbed her hand. And then there was hugging and crying and more hugging and then Harry found himself, a couple of days later, at a family party, standing arm and arm with Priya as more members of the Patel clan paid the couple their respects.

Harry very rarely found himself more than an arm's length away from Priya and he felt more like a trophy being shown off for her relatives but her amusement at it all, and the sheer look of glee on her face, amused him as well.

It ended up being a hell of a party, lasting more or less two full days. Her parents stayed for about a week. Her mother wanted to start planning everything immediately but Priya laughed her off. It would be in London, they'd agreed, although saying the words aloud gave Harry some pause. But why shouldn't it be in London? It was the easiest location for most of their friends and family, and the people they wanted to attend the event.

Priya didn't want to rush it though. Harry thought that her lifestyle must have annoyed her parents somewhat. They wouldn't say anything but they always looked uncomfortable when he held her, gave her a quick kiss, or they otherwise acted like they were already married.

She convinced her parents, though, that they were going to wait until she was done with her apprentice work. And settled into her career. And then they'd do the ceremony. Her parents had looked at him, as if expecting him to protest, when she'd said it. But he felt no reason to disagree with her.

To him, the exact semantics of it didn't matter. She'd agreed. They were going to do it. When wasn't a huge issue. Whenever she wanted to do it, he would be fine with that. So he figured he could let her pick the date. She had agreed to let her mother start scouting venues though. And she'd promised to send some memories of venues her way after they returned.

Harry was fairly surprised that they hadn't found out form the Daily Prophet or anything. But her parents told him that Fudge suppressed just about every bit of information related to Harry Potter. They'd even struck his name from Priya's research.

And then life continued. They were suddenly oddly popular in society. Harry thought it was odd but Priya didn't. He was too hard to approach, she'd explained. He was scary. People knew what could happened if you crossed Harry Potter.

But she wasn't scary. So people didn't have the same trepidation in asking her to attend a party or an event or anything of that nature. And she thought they sounded fun, so she and Harry went. And, although he wouldn't really admit it, he had fun too.

It did lead to all sorts of interesting meetings though. He met Japanese Quidditch professionals, other educators, the head of about every member of the Japanese ministry. And then the medical officials who were interested in meeting him because of how Priya spoke of him.

With those he found out that her grandmother and Healer Singh often raved about him in their private time. Without even realizing he'd done anything, he'd become a minor celebrity in the medical field for his help in the research and the fact that he was the fiancé of the newest rising star in the field.

He found he actually enjoyed this attention. Because it was something he'd done, something he'd accomplished, and not just something that had been done to him. When people whispered when he entered a room it was with hushed awe rather than a knowing pity.

One such party from a few months after their engagement always stuck out in his memory. He couldn't remember exactly what the purpose of the party was. Just that it was in Tokyo and he and Priya had invites.

They'd arrived fashionably late, Priya in a little black dress sparkling with jewelry and Harry in dress robes. Everyone's attention turned to them when they entered. Harry smiled and took it in his stride while Priya slipped away to get some drinks.

Harry found himself shaking hands with quite a few people, as was normal at the start of the events. Until a member of the Japanese ministry he vaguely recognized as a member of their Games and Sports department approached with two exceptionally pretty young women.

"Mister Potter," he said. "Let me introduce you to two of our guests of honor tonight-"

"Sophia Sinclair and Ginevra Weasley," Harry finished.

"Oh. I see you've met?" the man said.

"I went to school with him," Ginny said, smiling brightly up at Harry.

"We've met," Sophie confirmed with a slight smirk. Ginny gave her a curious look out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll leave you to catch up," the ministry official said as he scampered off toward another woman Harry recognized as Gwenog Jones who seemed to be getting into an argument with someone.

"What brings you to Japan?" Harry asked.

"The Harpies are doing an exhibition tour against a few Japanese teams," Ginny said. Both girls were wearing green and gold dresses and Harry half wondered if team colors were part of their contract for events like this. Ginny's hair was down but Sophie's brunette tresses were pulled back into a bun and little golden harpies graced her ears.

"The Harpies?" he asked. "What happened to Vancouver?"

"Holyhead decided I was worth about double what Vancouver wanted to pay. And the British league is more competitive than the Canadian league," Sophie said.

"When did you two meet?" Ginny asked, her eyes sliding between them.

"A few years ago when Harry visited Canada," Sophie said.

"You were in Canada?" Ginny pried.

"Yes," Harry said. "How are the matches going?"

"Three-and-oh so far. Two more to play," Sophie said.

"The Japanese aren't very good at quidditch," Ginny said.

"How have you been keeping busy?" Sophie asked.

"I've been teaching," Harry said.

"Really?" Ginny sounded shocked.

"Really," Harry confirmed. He gazed around the room, biting his bottom lip and looking for a way out of the conversation.

Priya was over at the bar, tapping her foot impatiently as the bartender took an eternity to make a martini. All sorts of annoyed thoughts about his alacrity were rushing through her head while she waited. Of course it was Harry's fault for not ordering whatever exactly the red vinegar she'd ordered for herself was.

When he finally finished the drinks she paid, turned back to the party and wandered through the crowd until she found Harry. Her eyes narrowed upon seeing his company. Although his expression made it clear as day that he wasn't overly interested in the conversation.

Something primal stirred in her as the red-haired one reached out to brush a hand over his shoulder. She narrowed her eyes and moved toward her fiancé.

She'd grown accustomed to women like that. Women who were far more forward and willing than she'd ever been able to be. Women who were more comfortable in their skin and knew what they'd wanted.

She'd never been able to act like that. Even with Harry it had taken longer than it probably should have for the relationship to develop because she was too nervous to act on most of her feelings. But it had worked out. Still, she didn't like the way the girls were looking at him.

Well, the brunette looked fine. For every moment she looked at Harry she leered at another man in the party. There was a familiarity there but she wasn't hanging off his every word and action like the red head.

No, the red head was clearly trying too hard. And Priya didn't like it at all. She'd dealt with women like that all of her life. Ones that dismissed her immediately because she was a variety of things that weren't good enough. Too skinny, too flat, too brown, too nerdy, too short. Always too something.

"Here's your drink, babe," Priya said, sliding his martini into his hand. While sliding her arm through his. The redhead turned her gaze to Priya.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"You must be the Doctor Patel I've heard about," The brunette said. Priya smiled at her and nodded.

"I am," Priya said.

"This is Sophie Sinclair and Ginny Weasley of the Holyhead Harpies," Harry said, gesturing to each of them with his drink.

"A pleasure," Priya said.

"And how do you know Harry?" Ginny asked. Priya shifted her grip on Harry's arm, the ring on her hand glinting in the light of the room.

"We share a vagina," Priya said, as dryly as possible.

"Oh," Ginny blushed, her eyes going wide as her gaze shifted to the ring. "I…I need to go get a drink."

"That was effective," Sophie said, watching Ginny wander away.

"I..uh," Harry said, blushing a little bit and looking down at Priya.

"I couldn't resist," Priya muttered.

"She'd been talking about nothing but taking a bite out of Harry since we got here. Bit annoying, really. Congratulations though," Sophie said. "You two really do look good together."

"Thank you," Priya said.

"More importantly though," Sophie smirked. "Just how much sharing are we talking?"

"Oh ha ha," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hey it's a serious question," Sophie teased. "And is there room for one more?"

"What was that?" Harry asked, blinking.

"Get me drunk enough and I'll think about it. But we'd need something better than this wine," Priya said.

"Wait what?" Harry blinked more.

"You're still so easy," Sophie laughed. "Anyway. I'm going to go make sure that Ginny doesn't hang herself. Have a good night you two. And congratulations again."

"Thanks," Harry said, dumbly.

"She's the one you hooked up with in Canada?" Priya asked.

"Yeah, when I was sixteen," Harry said.

"She's cute," Priya said.

"I don't know how to answer that," Harry said, sipping the martini.

"You love me," Priya said.

"Yes," Harry responded, instantly.

"And you want to spend the rest of our lives together," Priya said.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Then honestly," Priya said.

"She is cute," Harry agreed.

"How long do we have to be here?" Priya asked.

"We don't have to be here at all," Harry said.

"Good. I'm feeling more like I want to act like a dumb kid than a responsible adult. Let's wander through night time Tokyo and see where the night takes us," Priya said.

"Sounds like a plan," Harry responded.

Dreams of Tokyo faded from his mind as he woke. He reached across his bed, intending to pull his fiancé to him. But he found only soft blankets. Harry groaned against them and opened his eyes, saddened to find himself in the head's bedroom inside Hogwarts.

Harry sat up in annoyance, his gaze shifting to his clock. It was only a few minutes before he was supposed to get up to assist Neville. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, slashed his hand at the clock to turn off the magical alarm before it went off, and rose from the bed.

It didn't take him very long to shower, dress, or summon some breakfast from the kitchens. He ate quickly and stepped down the stars into the professor's tower. There weren't many signs of life in the pre-dawn hours. He yawned stepped quickly down the steps, dodging past Gemma Farley as she stepped from her room.

He spun around as treacle tart, whisky and cherry blossoms filled his nose.

"Morning Gemma," he said. His potions professor wore only yoga pants and a pink tank top and was carrying a small cauldron.

"Good morning, Harry," she responded as she locked the door to her suite.

"Amortentia lesson?" he asked, eyeing the potion.

"On Monday," Gemma said. "It has about a two-hour window where I can sterilize it but keep the aroma aspect. A little trick Horace taught me in case students think it a good idea to swipe some love potion."

"Clever," Harry said.

"Sadly it's ahead of schedule," she yawned. "Was supposed to get to that point around ten, not at six fifteen."

"Ouch," Harry said.

"Mmhmm," she said. "It's only about a half hour process though. What has you up this early?"

"I promise to show Neville a few tricks," Harry said. "Apparently he likes to do that in the morning."

"Gross," Gemma said.

"Yeah. I agree," Harry said as they walked down toward the main hall.

"Well I'm going to finish up in my classroom," Gemma said, turning left at the bottom of the stairs.

"Have fun," Harry said, turning right and walking toward the Entrance Hall. He left the castle and made his way down toward the lake. The autumn foliage was setting in and he spent a moment just gazing across the scenery.

He made it to the lake before Neville. He sat near one of the banks and closed his eyes, letting magic flow around him as he waited. It was an intoxicating feeling, nothing but power coursing through every inch of him, making it seem like everything in the world was possible.

"You're glowing," Neville said.

"That happens," Harry responded. He opened his eyes to watch the purple tendrils flare around him and evaporate into the morning air.

"That doesn't feel normal," Neville said.

"That happens too," Harry said.

"You going to explain that?" Neville asked.

"Well, I could, but that's a very long story," Harry said. "And would definitely cut into me showing what I did to Grindelwald."

"And I have a strange feeling is probably a better story if there's a couple of beers involved," Neville said.

"Most stories are," Harry agreed. He stood and started to stretch.

"That's the truth," Neville laughed. He watched Harry stretch, making no attempt to do so himself.

"So, do anything fun this weekend?" Harry asked as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Uh, I took Hermione out last night," Neville said.

"Nice," Harry said, pulling his arms behind his head. "How'd it go?"

"It was…fine I guess," Neville said.

"That doesn't sound fine," Harry said.

"No it was," Neville shrugged. "Just weird first date awkwardness, you know."

"Not really," Harry said. "Last first date I had involved sushi, drunken karaoke in a foreign language and ended up waking up with her in a bed of leaves around noon the next morning."

"Yeah I can't say I've ever gotten that lucky on a first date," Neville laughed.

"We didn't have sex," Harry said. "It was more complicated than that."

"Oh?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "But I'm too sober to go into details. So how's Miss Granger?"

"She's fine," Neville said. He eyes him carefully for a moment. "Are you sure there's nothing between you two? I know you've flirted with her before."

"Positive. And I flirt with everyone," Harry said. "But it still amuses me to make her uncomfortable. Old friendship habits die hard. Anyway, she's not my type."

"What even is your type?" Neville asked.

"Less pale," Harry said.

"Specific," Neville countered.

"Want to learn some fancy new magic or not?" Harry asked.

"Fine, let's get started," Neville responded, drawing his wand.

"Great," Harry said. "The incantation I learned it with was Hindi, but I've found the Latin absorbeo works just as well. Start by making a cone with your hand and using the incantation." Magic glowed around Harry's left hand as he held it up as described.

"I can't do wandless magic like that," Neville blinked.

"Then use your wand," Harry said, suppressing his mild annoyance. Neville took out his wand.

"Absorbeo," he muttered, pointing his wand at his hand. Magic flickered around his fingers. It took him two attempts to get a passable glow, a reddish aura surrounding his fingers.

"Good," Harry said. "Release it and try again."

"Okay," Neville said, doing as instructed. After a few more attempts he seemed to have it down. "You weren't holding your hand like this when you were fighting Grindelwald."

"I've had practice," Harry said, holding his hand up and making the purple and green glow of his magic appear in various shapes around it.

"I see," Neville said, wincing away from Harry as he cast. He at least had the decency to not comment aloud.

"Like most things, it gets easier with practice," Harry said, letting the magic drop from him. "The next part is trickier."

"And that would be?" Neville asked.

"Actually catching spells," Harry said, sliding his wand out of his pocket.

"Oh joy," Neville responded. "At least go easy on me?"

"I'm not going to try to hex you," Harry laughed. "Just hold your hand out a bit."

"That's so comforting," Neville said, but he held out his hand as shied his body away from Harry.

"You'll be fine you're a fully trained Auror," Harry laughed. He shot a weak cutting spell directly at Neville's hand. Neville winced as it impacted on him, but his hand flashed a brighter red as it hit.

"Woah," Neville said, staring down at it, his arm visibly shaking.

"Hold onto it," Harry said. "Restrain it. Keep it there."

"I think I have it," Neville said, gritting his teeth a bit and focusing down at his hand, his muscles growing more tense with every passing moment.

"Good," Harry said, firing another spell at his friend's hand.

"Merlin," Neville gasped, tensing against it.

"One more," Harry said, shooting a week bludgeoner this time. Neville caught it as well, wincing a bit. Harry could see the sweat forming on his brow.

"This is starting to hurt," he winced as he held his arm out.

"It does that," Harry said. "Now hold onto it. Focus it."

"I'm trying," Neville said, his hand starting to glow a deeper red as his concentration focused on it.

"Good," Harry said. "When you think you're ready either let it go or force it out."

"Okay," Neville said. He stared down at his hand as if marveling at the power he could feel there. Harry saw Neville tense, his hand still held out, pointing directly at him. And then he saw him flinch and knew what was coming.

A bright red ball shot from Neville's hand, flying directly at Harry. It moved quickly, closing the gap between the two figures almost instantly. When it hit, a flash of blinding red light forced up cloud of dust flew up around the both of them.

"Oh shit," Neville gasped, coughing through the dust. When it cleared he saw Harry Potter, standing exactly where he'd been, seeming entirely unfussed by the situation.

"Well done," Harry said.

"How?" Neville gasped.

"Practice," Harry smirked. "Anyway, you have the basics down there. I was being pretty easy on you with the spells. It takes a while to be able to hold onto that much of someone else's magic. I have a bit of an advantage there, but it's a long story to explain."

"Can it absorb anything?" Neville asked.

"Theoretically, probably. But I haven't tried with like, say, the Killing Curse. If you can't hold onto it, it just overpowers through your arm. It can do serious damage to you if you try to hold something too powerful," Harry said.

"Good to know," Neville responded. "How can you tell though?"

"Practice and a good sense of magic," Harry said. "If you like we can continue to push it and see how it goes.

"Let's do it," Neville said, he pointed his wand at his hand once more and it started to glow. Harry didn't really give him any time to brace himself. He just cursed him immediately, firing stronger spells this time, and aiming at him rather than his hand.

To his credit, Neville managed to react fast enough to counter Harry. At first he tried to absorb the spells Harry fired at him, but he quickly realized the barrage would be too much for that. So, he started to counter most of them and absorb the ones he could.

It took them longer this time. It was about twenty minutes before Neville managed to shoot the spells back at him. This time Harry held out his own hand and felt the power impact on it. It was stronger than he'd thought. His muscles tensed as fire shot through his arm. But he caught it.

He couldn't help but smirk at Neville's shocked face. He didn't fire it back at him, though. Instead he just let it dissipate.

"Again?" he asked.

"You're unreal," Neville laughed.

"I mean it's not like you've not seen it before," Harry shrugged.

"In Oslo no one really managed to follow you. In France I was a little busy at the time. Now you're not even trying and I'm probably at about eighty percent effort," Neville said.

"So again?" Harr asked again.

"Fine. Just don't try to kill me," Neville laughed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said.

"Uh huh, sure," Neville laughed and shifted his stance. This time he fired at Harry first and their dueling resumed. Harry eased off a little here and Neville responded by pushing him harder. He smiled as he countered a jinx. It was good to know Neville was still the type who'd rather be pushed than gone easy on. It wasn't quite as long this time. Perhaps ten more minutes before Neville fired the absorbed magic at him.

Again, Harry caught it. But this time he did throw it back at the ex-Auror. He watched it speed toward Neville, a look of surprise on his face. Harry expected him to shield it. But his friend surprised him by raising his hand against the spell. Harry heard him shout in pain as he absorbed it. But he managed to hold on.

Neville turned to try to fire it at Harry. But it became too much for him and the magic burst from him mid turn. Harry's head shot to the side, following the beam as it sped toward the castle and a brunette.

Harry's heart sank, but he needn't have worried. She held up a hand and it stopped before her.

"You have to be shitting me," Neville said as he stared at her. She was merely examining her now glowing hand with a slightly bored expression on her face.

"She does that," Harry said.

"So, is that why you aren't interested in Hermione?" Neville asked, nodding toward Emily as she started to walk toward them. He knew they'd interacted some. She'd sat in on a few Defense Lessons to see if it was something she was still interested in. He hadn't asked Neville for his opinion on her, or her for his opinion on the lessons as of yet.

"Still not my type," Harry said.

"What's wrong with this one?"

"Not brown enough," Harry said.

"Really?" Neville laughed.

"Really what?" Emily asked as she stepped toward them, still examining her hand.

"Nothing. Just teasing Harry about his love life," Neville said.

"He has one of those?" Emily asked. "Or were you taking about his hands?"

"Haha," Harry said, dryly.

"This is a neat trick," Emily said, holding up her own glowing hand. "But I feel like if you combined the two activities it would end poorly."

"Probably," Harry said. Emily clenched her hand into a fist and Harry watched the magic flare down her arm and then vent off of her. She didn't flinch at it occurred.

"Wow," Neville said.

"Told you I was strong," she said to Neville.

"Do I even want to know how that came up?" Harry asked.

"The effectiveness of magical shockwaves for defending against Inferi," Neville said.

"Right. So, what gets you up before noon on a weekend?" Harry asked, his gaze turning to Emily.

"I'm not anywhere near as lazy as you," Emily said.

"That did not answer my questions," Harry said.

"I felt the fight. Seemed worth checking out," Emily shrugged. She unfolded a copy of the morning paper she'd had under her arm and handed it to him.

"Was it entertaining?" Harry asked.

"Less so when I realized it wasn't to the death," Emily responded.

"Do I even want to know?" Neville asked.

"No," Emily responded. Harry peered at her.

"How did you two meet anyway?" Neville asked

"We ran into each other in a park," Emily said. "Harry was brooding and I was having a picnic."

"Sounds like Harry," Neville teased.

"I don't brood," Harry said.

"Well maybe not anymore," Neville said. "But we both know that wasn't true while you were at school. I mean you sat in bed ignoring everyone most of your last year at Hogwarts."

"I guess, I did," Harry shrugged.

"Gross," Emily said.

"I wasn't—" Harry started.

"Uh-huh," Emily said.

"Why did you bring me the paper?" Harry asked.

"Maybe read the headline on the first page before asking that?" Emily said.

"Another article on how I'm the worst Headmaster in the history of Hogwarts and how the Ministry should remove me from office?" Harry asked.

"Have there been many of those?" Emily asked.

"At least three," Neville said. "Weirdly they're all written by anonymous authors and include all sorts of information that only people in the ministry could know."

"And that could have only come from the Department of Education," Harry scoffed.

"You're not blaming Hermione," Neville narrowed his eyes.

"No. It's not her," Harry said. "It's Fudge or Percy. But it's better if I let them think I'm falling for the obvious."

"Is Hermione aware of that?" Neville asked.

"I'd assume. She's smart," Harry said.

"But you haven't talked to her about it?" Neville asked.

"There's no point," Harry said. "I'm no less open with her than normal and if she doesn't know I trust her already then nothing I can say will change that."

"I just think it would be nice," Neville said. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he distracted himself by looking down at the paper. The headline above the fold and the top half of the photo accompanying it were all he needed to see.

"Really?" he asked, holding the paper up toward Emily.

"You're the one that attacked him," Emily said. "You should have known that he'd use it."

"Gellert Grindelwald tells all, his reformation, the magic that brought him back, and how he was attacked by Harry Potter. An exclusive interview with Rita Skeeter?" Harry scoffed.

"What did you think would happen?" she asked.

"People can't believe this," he said.

"Believe that someone could be reformed after a life in prison? Believe that people could change? Yes. Why would anyone believe that?" Emily scoffed.

"I see what you're trying to do," Harry said.

"Good," Emily said.

"Is your entire purpose of coming out here to be bitchy?" Harry asked.

"No," Emily said, her eyes narrowing. She drew her new wand from her pocket and twirled it around her fingers. "I think it's time I break this in."

"Really?" Harry smirked. He tossed the paper toward Neville and shifted into a defensive stance, wand drawn.

"Uhm Emily I wouldn't recommend that," Neville said.

"Really," she responded ignoring Neville and stepping toward Harry. When she was about fifteen paces away she tilted her head in the slightest form of a bow possible and Harry understood the rules. He bowed back. And then it began.

She opened with a cutter. Simple, leading, and obvious. Harry was almost disappointed at the simplicity of it. At least until four more spells followed it. He countered two, shifted away from the third, and threw a quick shield up for the forth.

That was his first mistake. The shield shattered on impact, shards of magic scattering around him. A few of the shards pierced through his arm. He cursed loudly and healed them with a wave of his hand while continuing to counter her spells. She didn't let up and he found himself quickly on the back foot.

Harry kept his eyes on her, the fury in her face surprising him as he slashed back against every spell she cast. He had no choice but to fall back against the onslaught, the fatigue from his three fights with Neville wearing him down.

His eyes flashed back to Emily as the onslaught continued. He wasn't surprised to see the familiar green and purple magic radiating off her as she fought. Harry kept countering until he recognized one of her spells. It was a familiar cursed cutter known to deflect in multiple directions if shielded.

So, he threw up the most powerful shield he could. The blast of bright light blinded both of them for a moment. He heard Neville curse and assumed he didn't protect himself in time. But a quick glance as his vision returned showed he'd managed to heal himself.

"So that's how it is?" Harry said, stepping toward Emily as she took a moment to blink her vision back into focus.

"You could have killed your friend with that," she said, the magic still radiating around her.

"Neville can take care of himself," Harry said.

"Are you two trying to kill each other?" Neville yelled.

"You're still easy to push around," Emily said.

"I didn't think you were going to open with that," Harry said, nodding toward her.

"You think Grindelwald will hold back?" she asked.

"I'm not trying to kill you," Harry scoffed.

"Another mistake," she said. And then she reverted to form. She threw her hand straight out to him and a spell he recognized easily enough. But it wasn't just unleashed from her in a circle as he'd always seen. Instead the shockwave focused into a ball and rushed straight to him. Harry watched it come and made no attempt to stop it.

"Harry!" Neville yelled as it hit him square in the chest. The impact shook the ground, dirt and dust kicked up around him. Neville rushed toward him. But he only made it four steps before he stopped in his tracks.

"Impossible," Emily gasped as Harry stepped closer to her.

"You wanted to know what I did," Harry said as the first tendril of purple energy flared off him.

"Diffindo, Tonare, Tonare," Emily yelled, throwing more spells his way. The purple and black tendrils flared out around him with each spell.

"It's easier to show than tell," he continued. He was mere steps from her, the purple energy reaching out from him to her, flaring out around him as he loosened his control on something that he'd grown so accustomed to being a part of him.

"How?" she gasped as one tendril lashed out and caressed her. She recoiled away from it, a purple splotch staining her face as she moved away.

"Power and time," he said as another tendril flared after her.

"Don't touch me," she exploded in anger as the tendril did just that. Her magic flared around her once more, more green and silver than purple this time. A mistake, Harry thought, as the tendrils swarmed it.

"And there's your mistake," he said as he could feel it being drained away from her.

"Get. Away," she yelled as he stepped closer to her. "Tonare. Tonare!" But the blasting curses had no effect. He made no attempt to prevent them from hitting him.

"Yield," Harry said.

"Crucio! Crucio! Crucio," she shrieked, her eyes flashing in rage at her own helplessness as he continued to approach.

"Yield," he said again as she continued to approach her.

"Avada!" she yelled but the tendrils hit her before she could finish the statement. And she collapsed against the oppression they brought. She fought against it. He watched as she continued to struggle. Her body flushing with the effort as she continued to fight against him.

"Yield," he said one final time as the purple aura encompassed them both. It ate away at her green and silver magic, dulling the aura around her until it vanished. But it didn't prevent her from continuing to struggle. Her eyes flashed up at him and for the first time in his life he saw true panic on the face of Lord Voldemort.

It was an intoxicating feeling. He couldn't help but smirk down at her as she continued in vain to struggle as the magic left her. He knew she of all people should be able to tell just what she was fighting against. How she of all people would have experience against it. But it didn't matter. He was letting it free and there wasn't any escape for nearby magic.

"Reducto," she gasped slashing her wand toward him as he closed the final gap.

"That won't work. Just tell me you give in," he said. She tried to step back away from him but she couldn't flee. She pressed her left hand to his chest, pushing against him. He laughed, he couldn't help it. She couldn't have been a hundred and fifteen pounds and she thought she could push him away? He realized his mistake too late.

"Never," she gasped and his world exploded around him as power ripped through him. More power than he would have thought she could have possibly had left over from him. It threw him back and into the air. He thought for sure that he'd crash hard into the ground but the tendrils steadied him as he pulled them back into himself. It only took moment for his magic to fight with it again as he felt the war of it raging within him. But he'd grown used to it and he suppressed it as much as he could.

He looked toward where she'd been. She was kneeling on the ground, pulling herself up from the effort, mud and grass in her hair, panting as she struggled to get to her feet.

"How about we call it a draw?" he offered, shaking off the lingering effects of the shockwave she'd blown through him. His muscles shook but he managed to keep it together. Her eyes locked onto his, anger flashing in them. But a moment later they softened and she laughed, shaking her head.

"Fine," she said. He tucked his wand into his pocket and walked to her, offering a hand to pull her to her feet. To his surprise, she took it without question.

"Lunch?" he asked.

"I could eat," Emily said.

"Yeah, we need to talk," Neville said. His wand was drawn and leveled on Emily.


End file.
